


Black & White

by Astrella



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coming of Age, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Nekoma, Personal Growth, Platonic Relationships, Slow Burn, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrella/pseuds/Astrella
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a little girl who had two very special treasures. She put them both in a box and always held them dear. One day, she saw a pretty new treasure and wanted to add it to her collection, so she reached for it. But the box slipped from her grasps and her treasures shattered. She lost everything.After the abrupt decision to quit the Kyudo Club, Shirazome Ichika's life turned topsy-turvy when she left her rural country life behind and moved in with her grandfather to the colourful and bustling city of Tokyo. Enrolled at Metropolitan Nekoma Highschool, she unexpectedly stumbles upon Boys' Volleyball Club - a group of chaotic oddballs of the school - before promptly receiving an invitation to become their club manager.From keeping the rowdy boys of the volleyball club in check to taste-testing all of the new and best foods in town, every minute of Ichika's life is about to be spent dealing with the highs and lows that come with her new urban, eclectic lifestyle.But the further the days pass her by, the closer those knotted and frayed connections she left in the countryside come back to haunt her. And Ichika could only be left wondering:How can she move on from the past?
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	1. A Chance Encounter at the Subway Station!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling to find her way to her new school, Shirazome Ichika runs into two strangers at the subway station who were kind enough to help out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my dear friends Carol, Vivi & Sophia on Tiktok, as well as a personal friend of mine, Hana, for beta-reading. Without you guys, I'm sure this story would've been a hot, grammatical mess.
> 
> Thank you to my close friend Jonathan for supporting me and hyping me up in every project I've taken on. Without your encouraging words, I'm sure I would've been way too insecure to continue writing.
> 
> Thank you to my best friend Rebecca for being my final rational brain cell. You may find it annoying, but your presence during my 3 a.m. existential crises is what keeps me sane.
> 
> Thank you to my close friend James for being my advisor, not only in this story but for all of my writing in general. Without you, I'm sure I wouldn't have ever gotten out of my head, and this story would be without a direction or form.
> 
> And a big thank you to all of you guys, on Tiktok, on Wattpad, on Quotev & on ao3 for getting me this far. For voting, for participating in the comments. And now, for reading this story. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this story, and it can somehow affect you in a positive way.

**Standing with** her shoulders directly aligned with the target, she took a deep breath in before steadily drawing back the bowstring with an exhale. The circular target was just insight, about thirty yards away; the bullseye practically urging her to release her arrow clean into the centre.

Her hands trembled ever-so-slightly with the tension in the string, but she paid it no mind. All she could feel in the moment was the gentle breeze that threaded through the loosened strands of her hair, pricking against her skin like a million needles that reminded her to remain focused, to stay in tune with the goal standing directly before her.

God, she loved that feeling. When the world would fall away, leaving her alone with nothing but the target and her senses. Despite not being unable to see nor hear her surroundings, she felt as if she could practically melt into them. To become one with the wind, to sink into the hardwood floor below, to fuse with the arrow she barely held back from launching into the distance. She could feel the pounding nervousness in her chest, the one that would cause her to waver if she were to so much as pay any ounce of mind to it. She had to hold it in; she had to keep it together. Because kyudo was all about self-discipline and mental fortitude, any form of panic, fear, or anxiety would simply hinder her accuracy.

But that's just it, wasn't it?

The internal battle between the desire to scream and the need to stay still, the rush of blood that coursed through her veins as she lined up her shot. Instead, she chose to channel all those emotions into the arrow in her hand. Because nothing could beat the liberating feeling of finally letting go of those emotions, sending the arrow flying through the airstream and towards the target.

She was addicted to that feeling.

_A soft breeze from the left. Taking in the distance between me and the target..._

Her pupils constricted.

_... Now!_

With that, she released the string.

_******* _

_~Present Day~_

"Hmm." A girl stood by the sprawling subway map at Naka-Meguro Station, her thin finger ghosting across the cool glass as she attempted to navigate her way around the foreign city. As a soft spring breeze whisked by, she couldn't help but shiver a little, clutching her school bag closer to her body as the wind rustled through her waist-length hair. "What should I do?" She cocked her head to the side, a slight crease forming on her forehead.

"Hey, you over there!" A sudden voice rang out from behind, startling the girl as she whirled around, coming face to face with two boys. One of them was much taller than her, with a well-built and muscular frame as well as messy black hair that spiked upwards. The other was about average height, with a thin frame, poor posture and bleached blond hair at the ends. He didn't seem to be the one who called out to her, given that he looked far too engrossed in his handheld console to even pay attention to where he was going.

"Need some help?" The taller of the two asked as he nudged his companion forward. "You're heading to Nerima Station, aren't you?"

"Huh? Oh, yes," she looked a little perplexed. "How did you know?"

"Your uniform," he pointed at her black sweater vest and the dark blue blazer. "Nekoma High, right?"

"Oh!" It then occurred to the girl that the boys were also wearing uniforms from the same school, albeit the male counterparts. "Yes, I'm on my way to Nekoma High right now," she affirmed with a small smile. "But I'm having some trouble with Tokyo's subway system. It's a little overwhelming if I'm being honest."

"Why don't you just use your smartphone then?" The smaller boy spoke up, briefly glancing at her over the progression of his game. "Don't you have a GPS app?"

The girl blinked. "Ah, about that..." she hesitated for a moment before reaching into her school bag, gingerly fishing out what could only be described as a very old and outdated brick phone.

"What are you? A caveman?" The taller boy deadpanned.

She gave an awkward chuckle at the comment. "So, because of that, I've been having trouble finding my way to school."

"Yeah, I think I got it now." Heaving a sigh in resignation, the taller boy ruffled his already messy hair before leaning forward. "First, you gotta take the Hibiya Line over here to Roppongi Station," He explained, index finger dragging along the white line that extended from their current location before changing trajectories onto the pink line. "Then you switch onto the Oedo Line, and get off at Nerima Station," He looked towards the blonde. "Understood?"

"Ah, yes!" She nodded, swiftly opening the memo application on that ancient device she called a phone to jot down the directions. "Hibiya Line... Roppongi..."

Watching as the blonde diligently typed in his instructions with great concentration, the taller boy couldn't help but feel a little worried. He sighed again. "Hey, why don't you just come with us?"

"Huh?" The girl was a little taken aback by his suggestion.

"Well, we're going the same way, aren't we?" He pointed out the obvious. "You can just come with us. I'm sure actually walking the route would make it much easier to remember than just taking verbal instructions."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I don't see why not," he hummed. "What do you think, Kenma?"

The boy, whose name was Kenma, simply shrugged.

"See?" He turned back to her with a grin.

"Yes, please!" The girl's cheeks quickly brightened. "Thank you very much!"

_******* _

The Tokyo subway was crowded, especially early in the mornings, and even more so on the first day of school. Students from various levels of schooling, salarymen and women, and even a few of the elderly were scattered about the cart. Some stood upright, reading or listening to music, while others remained seated on the bench seats, trying to catch some shut-eye before the beginning of what was sure to be a busy day ahead.

"So, I'm guessing you're not from around here, huh?" The dark-haired boy said to the girl with long blonde hair as they stood before a line of occupied benches, Kenma seated amongst them so he could redirect most of his efforts into clearing his game.

"No," the girl shook her head. "I'm originally from Nanto."

"Nanto..." He rubbed his chin in thought. "That's in the Toyama Prefecture, isn't it?"

"That's right," she nodded, somewhat impressed.

"Isn't Nanto like a four-hour train ride away from Tokyo?"

"Yes, and since it's such a mountainous region, it can be difficult to catch the bus to the closest station," she recalled, eyes flickering upwards towards the plastic hanging strap she clutched firmly in her hand. "If you miss the timing, you could end up stuck waiting another hour or so for the next one."

"I guess that explains the stone-age phone..." He remarked, shifting his gaze to the side.

"Well, the cell reception there wasn't the greatest. And I don't imagine the internet was any better," she noted with a laugh, gently tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "But I've lived there for most of my life, so I was used to it."

He glanced back at her. "Are you a first-year?"

"Hm? No, second."

"Oh? Same as you then, Kenma." Leaning down, he teasingly poked at his friend, who just hummed.

"What about you?" Chuckling at Kenma's apathetic response, the girl then turned to ask the taller boy.

"I'm a third-year," He said, reaching up to run a hand through his messy, dark hair. "My name is Kuroo Tetsuro, by the way. And this guy," he peered down at the boy with bleached hair. "This is Kozume Kenma."

"Ah," The girl covered her mouth, having just realized that despite being immersed in the same conversation for so long, neither she nor the boys ever bothered to introduce themselves. "My name is Shirazome Ichika." Still holding onto the handle grip, she lowered her head with a gracious smile. "It's a little late to say this now, but it's nice to meet you both."

_******* _

"Thank you very much for your help, Kuroo-san, Kozume-san," Standing before the gates and stone plate that read 'Toritsu Nekoma Highschool,' Ichika bowed to the two boys. "Without you, I'm sure I wouldn't have made it here on time."

"It's fine, it's fine," Kuroo waved with an air of nonchalance. "Just make sure you remember the way back home, since Kenma and I most likely won't be here to help you," He teased.

"Of course." Ichika nodded along, holding both arms up as if it were a demonstration of her strength. "Don't worry, Kuroo-san. Now that I've physically run through the route, I have it properly memorized for next time," she brought her hands back down to her sides with a playful giggle. "Thank you again, I hope to see you both around."

"Yep," Kuroo huffed out a smile. "The faculty room is on the second floor, by the way."

"Bye," Kenma murmured, having to put his handheld console away now that he was in sight of the teachers.

Parting ways with the dynamic duo, Ichika made her way up the stairs and towards the faculty room as per instruction during the opening ceremony.

"Excuse me." Sliding the door open, she poked her head in with a quiet greeting. The fresh smell of paper immediately greeted her nostrils, accompanied by a faint whiff of coffee and cigarette smoke mixed within. Rows of desks were lined up back to back, each surface piled high with files, papers and lesson materials.

A few faculty members looked up from what they were doing, casting the blonde a questioning look.

"Is Ishimoto-sensei here?" She asked.

At the sound of his name, a young man with black, shaggy hair leaned back in his chair, immediately distinguishing himself from the rest.

"Hm? Ah, you must be Shirazome," he looked to be chewing on something, evident by the small white stick that poked out of his mouth. "Hold on, let me grab your file."

As she made her way towards his desk, Ichika couldn't help but take note of the lab coat the man chose to wear over his business suit. That, along with his young age. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties, with fair skin, grey eyes and a hunched over posture that very much reminded her of Kenma.

"Let's see..." Digging up a file with her name on it, Ishimoto carelessly swept aside the other papers that cluttered his desk, passing it off as a problem for his future self to deal with. "Shirazome Ichika... Class 2-3..." As he muttered to himself, he absently reached for the white stick in his mouth and pulled it out with a resounding pop, revealing a... lollipop?

Ichika blinked.

Picking up on her astonished expression, the young man raised an eyebrow. "What? Do you want one?" He offered, pulling open one of his storage drawers to reveal an assortment of similarly sized lollipops, still wrapped in their colourful brand packaging. "What flavour do you like? I have strawberry, orange, grape and-"

"N-No, I'm alright." Frantically waving her hands, Ichika did her best to hide the lingering surprise on her face as she hurried to recompose herself. "I appreciate the offer though."

"Hm, suit yourself." Closing the drawer with a light shrug, Ishimoto popped the lollipop back into his mouth and shifted his attention back to the open file. "Well, everything seems to be in order, so I'll just go through a few housekeeping notes." Resting an elbow on the backrest of his office chair, he turned to face her. "As I'm sure you've gathered, I'm Ishimoto Akito - the homeroom teacher for Class 2-3. I also teach science, so try not to slack off too much in that subject."

"Ahaha," Ichika laughed uneasily. "Yes, of course not..."

Were Tokyo teachers always so... eccentric?

Seeing her acquiesce expression, a small smile found its way onto Ishimoto's stoic features. "Well, if you perform poorly in class, I can always just contact your grandfather myself and let him know what's going on. So do your best not to let that happen," he said to no one in particular before reaching into the file and pulling out a small plastic package. "Now, with that said, here are your shoe locker keys. Oh, and..." His voice trailed off, shifting into more of a tired groan as he reached down to pull open another drawer, plucking out a single piece of paper. "As your teacher, I'm required to ask this, but," he extended the page towards her, "do you plan on joining any clubs?"

"Huh?" Ichika's body visibly flinched at his question. She looked down at the piece of paper, the title 'Club Application' printed out in bold.

"At Nekoma, we strongly encourage our students to participate in club activities for an enriched high school experience as well as a well-rounded college application," Ishimoto recited. Though his dispassionate expression made it abundantly clear that the school board's interest was definitely in the latter. "It says here that you were the captain of the Kyudo Club back in middle school and that you played well into your first year of high school," he pointed to a few lines on her file. "We have a pretty good Kyudo Club here, so why don't you consider-"

"No."

Her answer was swift, like the sharp edge of a knife that practically slit through their conversation, bringing it to a staggering halt on the spot. Ishimoto peered up, taken off guard by the sudden shift in her tone.

With one hand clutching onto her elbow, Ichika stared down at her feet for a few long seconds before meeting his gaze once more. "I appreciate the thought, sensei. But I won't be joining the Kyudo Club," she tilted her head to the side, a saddened smile tugging at her lips.

"Because I... can't play kyudo anymore."

**_***_ **

Watching as the new first-years got into the routine of setting up the volleyball nets with the help of Kai and Yamamoto, Kenma peered up at his friend. "By the way, Kuro," he murmured, his tone tepid as per usual. "That girl from this morning, she's in my class."

"Huh? Ah, you mean that girl with the stone-age phone?" Kuroo hummed, briefly recounting the events from earlier that day. "That's a coincidence. Did you say hi?"

Kenma shook his head. "She was being crowded by everyone else during the breaks. Besides, I don't really have a reason to talk to her. We're just classmates."

"Fair enough," Kuroo mused. "It's not like she's going to walk through the gym door right now and-" His voice trailed off as he glanced towards the entrance of the volleyball gym, finding said girl peeking in through the doorway.

He blinked.

"Huh?"

Their eyes met.

"Ara, Kuroo-san. And Kozume-san too."

"H-Hey." The taller boy waved awkwardly, somewhat spooked by the fact that the girl they were literally just talking about appeared before them in such an abrupt manner. "Shirazome, right?"

"Yes," Ichika's smile broadened a little as she took a few steps into the gym, happy to be remembered by one of her first acquaintances at the school. When she locked eyes with Kenma, however, she suddenly let out a startled gasp as if remembering something important. "I'm so sorry I didn't say hi in class today, Kozume-san," she said, putting her hands together as a symbol of apology as she lowered her head along with it. "Everyone was so enthusiastic and friendly, I couldn't find time to slip away. And by the time the bell rang, you were already gone."

Kenma was slightly taken aback. Was that really something worth apologizing for?

"It's fine..." After a few seconds, he replied in a barely audible murmur.

"It was nice to see a familiar face in class though." Acting as if he didn't take longer than necessary to respond to such a simple line of conversation, Ichika continued to speak. "Either way, please take care of me this year."

"... Same here."

"So, what are you doing here?" Resting a hand on his hip, Kuroo looked back at the blonde. "If you're looking for the girl's volleyball club, they're in the other gym."

"Huh?" It then occurred to Ichika that both Kuroo and Kenma were now out of their school uniforms, instead dressed in a simple black t-shirt and red shorts - the signature Nekoma team colours. "Oh no, I'm not looking to join a club," she waved her hands frantically. "I'm actually looking for someone-"

"Ahhh! Kuroo-san! Kenma!" A loud shout erupted from across the gym, interrupting her mid-sentence. Following the source of the voice, she saw a boy with short, thick eyebrows and a blond mohawk staring at her with his jaw practically hanging open. "W-W-Who's that girl next to you!?" He stuttered, face flushed a bright red. "She's super cute!"

Drawn by the sound of the boy's theatrics, the various other members of the volleyball club began to gather around the entrance of the gym, forming a small crowd as they were all curious to see what's going on.

Kuroo sighed. He should've expected this. "Yamamoto, calm down," he said flatly. "This is Kenma's classmate."

"What?!" Opposite of Kuroo's advice, the boy named Yamamoto only seemed to get even more fired up. "Hey, Kenma!" He snapped his attention towards the smaller boy. "Since when did you have a classmate like that? I've never seen her around before!"

"She's a new student..." Kenma murmured.

At his response, a look of shock or betrayal crossed Yamamoto's face as he fell to his knees. "Dammit!" He punched the ground in frustration. "Why did Class 3 have to get the new girl!? We didn't get any new students in our class!"

"Hey, cut that out. You'll scare her." A boy with short, light brown hair spoke up, looking a little exasperated with the mohawk boy's behaviour. He looked about an inch taller than her, at best. "I'm really sorry about..." His voice trailed off, however, when he turned back towards Ichika to find her smiling for some reason.

"Ara ara," The girl with soft blonde hair chuckled to herself. "Thank you so much, that's very kind of you to say."

"...him?"

Crouching down before Yamamoto, she then extended a welcoming hand towards him. "My name is Shirazome Ichika," Her voice was sweet, almost therapeutic. "What's yours?"

"H-H-H...!" Yamamoto was star-struck and even more so, flabbergasted. Other than his younger sister, this was the first time a girl has ever spoken to him, much less acknowledged his existence. His hand trembled as he reached up, random sounds sputtering out of his mouth like a pile of word vomit.

Seeing his upperclassman reduced to such a state, one of the first-years, a tall, lanky boy with brown hair that spiked straight up couldn't help but laugh a little. "Senpai, if you're going to shake her hand, then just do it."

Egged on by his words, the boy with a mohawk suddenly shot up to his feet, extended his own hand and bowed at a rigid ninety-degree angle. "Y-Yamamoto Taketora!" He was practically yelling. "16-years-old, Class 2-1, currently single and looking hard for a girlfriend! N-Nice to meet you!"

Without missing a beat, Ichika gave a close-eyed smile as she stood up and took his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Yamamoto-san," she said, completely brushing off Yamamoto's obvious attempt at courting her.

Watching as the situation played out before him like a scene from a rom-com, Kuroo deadpanned. "It's almost scary how well she handled that," he remarked to no one in particular before working to steer the conversation back on track. "Shirazome, you mentioned you were looking for someone?" He asked.

"Ah, yes," Letting go of Yamamoto's hand, Ichika turned her attention back to the messy-haired boy once more. "I was told my grandfather would be here right about now. He left his keys at home and I figured I'd come and deliver them."

"Grandfather?" The boy with light brown hair raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. He's-"

"Ichika?"

Before she could say anything more, she was once again interrupted mid-sentence. However this time, the speaker didn't come from within the gym but the small entryway that separated the outside world from the gymnasium's reflective hardwood flooring. Kuroo felt his face twitch as he and the others turned to look, having immediately recognized that voice upon hearing it.

Sure enough, just at the entrance of the Nekoma volleyball gym, stood Nekomata Yasufumi - their head coach.

"Grandfather!" Ichika hurried over to meet him halfway.

"Huh?" One of the boys gawked.

"Grand...father?"

"What are you doing here?" Coach Nekomata asked, his wrinkled eyes widening slightly at the sight of the girl.

"You forgot your house keys." Reaching into her school bag, Ichika fished out a set of jingling keys held together by a cat-shaped key ring. "I just came to drop them off before heading home."

"Hm?" At the sight of the familiar key set, Nekomata patted down his red sports jacket only to come up dry. "I guess I did, didn't I? I was in a bit of a rush this morning. Sorry about that," He laughed, shaking his head at the careless mistake before reaching to take the keys from her. "Thank you."

"Of course," Ichika gave a polite smile. "Oh, and did you finish your lunch? If so, I can take the container back and wash-"

"H-Hold on just a second!!" Yamamoto's voice erupted throughout the gym, cutting her off for the fourth time in the last five minutes.

"Yes?" She blinked.

"Is something wrong, Yamamoto?" Nekomata questioned.

"Ichika-san, y-y-you..." Yamamoto's hand quivered as his pointer finger darted between the girl and his volleyball coach. "You're Coach Nekomata's granddaughter?!" He exclaimed.

It then occurred to Ichika that all of the boys, par Kenma, were now staring at her with wide eyes and slackened jaws, acting as if she were an unidentified object of some sort. "Ah," she covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, finally seeing the problem of this peculiar situation. "I guess I never mentioned it, did I? Allow me to re-introduce myself," Straightening her posture, she turned to the boys and gave a formal bow. "My name is Shirazome Ichika. I'm in Class 2-3 and I'm Nekomata Yasufumi's granddaughter." Lifting her head, she then flashed a sincere smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you all, Nekoma High's Boys' Volleyball Club."

.

.

.

"E-EHHH?!"

Leaving his clubmates to their exaggerated exclaims in disbelief, Kuroo rested a hand to his hip, shifting a little closer to Kenma who seemed to be taking the news with a relatively calm look.

"Well, looks like we've picked up an unusual stray cat," he remarked, keeping his gaze firmly glued to the blonde as she desperately tried to calm the boys who were practically bombarding her with questions.

Kenma nodded.

"B-But your family name...!?" A boy with jet black hair stuttered out.

"Shirazome is my father's family name."

"N-No way..."

"I see you've already acquainted yourself with the club," Coach Nekomata pointed out once Ichika managed to appease the boys with a few more simple responses.

"Well, I was waiting for you and one thing led to the other..." She said, only to suddenly jolting in place as if remembering something. "Oh, but I met Kuroo-san and Kozume-san this morning," she cupped a hand to her cheek bashfully. "It's a little embarrassing, but I might not have made it to school on time if it weren't for them."

"Is that so?" Nekomata's voice grew thoughtful.

With the slight creek of the entryway of the gym opening again, Naoi Manabu, the other coach of the Nekoma Boys' Volleyball team stepped in. "Alright everyone, line up and-" His voice trailed off, however, once he glanced up from the clipboard in his arms to see Ichika standing amongst the boys.

"Ah, Ichika-chan. Good to see you again," he wasted no time greeting the girl.

"Good afternoon," Ichika returned with a bow.

"Are you here to visit your grandpa?"

"I had to drop something off for him," she explained. "I'll be on my way now-"

"Actually, before you go," Coach Naoi stopped her, reaching down to flip through a few pages on his clipboard. "I wanted to ask you about something."

"What is it?"

"I heard from Ishimoto-sensei you didn't have any plans of joining a particular club," Naoi said, briefly recalling the conversation he had with the young science teacher in the faculty room just a little earlier in the day. "Would you like to give ours a shot?"

"The Boys' Volleyball Club...?" She was taken aback.

Coach Naoi nodded. Turning to the girl, his expression grew serious. "Would you like to be our club manager?"

**On April 9th, 2012, Shirazome Ichika received an invitation to join the Nekoma Boys' Volleyball Club.**


	2. Plus One Manager, Achieved!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ichika contemplates her invitation to join the volleyball club, advice comes in the form of a new friend at her new school.

**Absently picking** through the rice in her dinner bowl, Ichika gathered up the last remaining bits with her chopsticks and plopped it into her mouth, barely stifling the small sigh that threatened to escape her lips. 

After that straightforward yet unexpected request from Coach Naoi, she had just managed an obliging, “I’ll think about it,” before immediately being invited to join their first club practice of the school year.

“Perhaps observing would help you make your decision,” was the young coach’s reasoning.

Without much of a reason to refuse, Ichika concurred. Standing to the side of her grandfather, she was quickly introduced to the rest of the volleyball team, except Kuroo, Kenma and Yamamoto, whom she'd already met through the day’s odd string of incidents.

The boy with light brown hair, barely an inch taller than her, introduced himself as Yaku Morisuke, a third-year in the same class, Class 3-5, as Kuroo. Beside him was Kai Nobuyuki, another third-year student in Class 3-4 with a buzzcut and gentle smile. They were both extremely well-mannered, with Yaku apologizing for Yamamoto’s earlier behaviour while Kai simply welcomed her to their ‘humble club’ as he so put it.

Other than Kenma and Yamamoto, there was also another fellow second-year student - Fukunaga Shohei in Class 2-2. He seemed to be a man of few words, with wide eyes and a relaxed posture; he somehow reminded Ichika of a Maneki-Neko, or a beckoning cat that could often be found at the counter of certain stores.

Finally, there were the three first years - Inuoka So, Shibayama Yuki, and Teshiro Tamahiko from Classes 1-1, 1-4 and 1-6 respectively. The former two looked incredibly intimidated while introducing themselves, perhaps due to the familial ties she shared with the team’s head coach, but they were friendly nonetheless.

They all seemed like good kids. But in the end, what troubled Ichika the most had to be...

“Ichika. Ichika!” Nekomata’s voice finally registered within the blonde’s head as her eyes darted up to meet his. “Is everything alright?”

It then occurred to Ichika that she had long since swallowed the rice in her mouth and was instead just chewing a pair of chopsticks. “S-Sorry.” She set her bowl down with a guilty look. 

Nekomata continued to eat as if nothing was happening. “Is something bothering you?” he asked.

“What? No, not at all-”

“Was it Naoi-kun’s request?”

Ichika flinched. “Yes.” Her shoulders slumped in resignation. She pursed her lips, seeming lost in thought for a moment before peeking back up at the old man.

“Um… Grandfather?”

“Hm?”

“What would you like me to do?” she asked, studying the wrinkles around her grandfather’s eyes. They looked especially accentuated by the incandescent light hanging directly over the dining table. “If you need any extra help during practice, I’ll be happy to work as the manager-”

“That really depends on you,” Nekomata reached for another piece of fish tofu, finishing it up in two bites. “What do _you_ want to do? If becoming the team manager is what you want, I’m certainly not against it.”

Ichika huffed out a breath through her nose. That doesn’t help.

The old man couldn’t help but laugh a little at her troubled expression. “Just think about it. Naoi-kun isn’t asking for an answer tomorrow.”

“I guess…”

Satisfied with her answer, Nekomata nodded a little before setting down his bowl and chopsticks. “Are you done? If you are, I’m going to clean up.”

“Oh, no!” Ichika nearly jumped at the sight of her grandfather reaching for her empty bowl. “Please, allow me to-”

“Ichika.” A hand over her wrist and a firm call of her name had her movements staggering to a halt. She gasped, gaze snapping up to meet the thin slits in Nekomata’s golden eyes. “What did I tell you about how things will go in this house?” His voice was stern. “If you cooked dinner…”

“You’ll clean up,” Ichika finished knowingly, hands recoiling to her chest as she allowed her grandfather to take the empty bowl from her side of the table. “I’m sorry, grandfather,” she murmured, sounding like a guilty child more than anything. “I just…”

“I know,” Nekomata’s expression softened as he brought the dishes over to the sink. “But keep in mind that this is a give-and-take household, okay? I don’t want you doing everything on your own like before.”

Ichika’s shoulders tensed a little. “I understand.”

As he turned on the faucet, Nekomata couldn’t help but notice the tinge of stress on the girl’s face. He huffed out a light breath through his nose.

“If you really want to help,” he reached for the sponge and doused it in dish soap, “could you set that bowl of rice up as an offering? I just brought the old one down.”

“Yes, of course!”

“And come down for fruit in ten minutes!” he called after her.

A black ball of fluff twitched at the sound of Ichika’s footsteps as she entered the narrow hallway that connected to the other rooms on the first floor. It stretched its limbs across the tatami mats, rolling onto its feet as it shook its head in an effort to wake up. Still groggy, it silently crept out of the tatami room, spotting its owner’s heels disappearing around the corner of the staircase. It moved to follow.

Ichika arrived before a small butsudan (A/N: a cabinet-like Buddhist altar) positioned at the corner of the landing between the first and second floor. There was a small black ceramic pot at the center of the lower shelf, the last stub of incense still burning as it stood upright within the ash. To the left, there was a small plate with an array of fruits laid out. From oranges to bananas, her grandfather diligently replaced them as soon as they showed the first signs of browning. Similarly, to the right of the incense pot was a glass vase, which he decorated with fresh flowers every afternoon after returning from the school.

At the very back, on the top shelf lodged into the middle of the cabinet, were two wooden frames, each displaying a photo of a different woman printed in over-saturated colours.

The woman on the left looked to be in her early thirties when the photo was taken; she had medium-length blonde hair that swept over her shoulder in a braid. The other woman looked to be in her early-to-mid sixties, with a head of dark hair that was sparsely greying from age. It would be evident to even an unfamiliar observer that the two shared similar features, from the heart-shaped faces to rich ridged lips, but upon a closer inspection, one could probably make out that Ichika had those features too. 

Ichika herself only recognized the woman on the left. Nevertheless, she set the bowl of rice down on the lower shelf as her grandfather instructed and went through the motions of clapping her hands together.

After offering a quick prayer to the dead, she turned on her heel and made her way up the second set of stairs, heading straight for her bedroom. 

“The volleyball club, huh.” Collapsing onto the futon, she murmured into her sheets. “What should I do?”

As if responding to her, she felt something soft brush against her calf muscles. Slowly but surely, she turned her head to the side and out of the blankets, watching as a medium-sized cat settled down beside her head with a bored expression. His fur was as dark as night, and his piercing blue eyes bore into her soul. He began to purr upon making eye contact, causing Ichika to chuckle wryly. She reached out a hand, gently stroking the feline down its back. 

“What do you think I should do, Aki-chan?” she asked as if the cat would have the answer to her dilemma. 

**_***_ **

“Shirazome-san~!” 

At the sing-song call of her name, Ichika jolted in her seat. She tore her gaze away from the empty club application sheet, meeting a set of grey eyes.

“Oh, hello,” Ichika smiled politely, slightly perplexed by the girl with a ponytail that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She was crouching at the edge of Ichika’s desk, a tinge of curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “Umm… Hansasaki Sora-san, was it?” she murmured just barely being able to recall the girl as one in the sea of faces that told her she could always come “talk to them.”

“Bingo. You’re correct,” Sora grinned, leaning forward to latch the tips of her fingers onto the edge of the desk. “Sorry, you just seemed so focused on something, so I got curious. What’re you doing?”

Ichika pushed the club application sheet towards the brunette, watching as she rose on her toes a little to catch a glimpse of the title, only for her face to contort with aversion.

“Ahh, I see,” she sighed in exasperation. “I guess Ishimoto-sensei gave you the ‘talk.’”

“That sounds a lot more dramatic than it actually was.”

Sora shrugged. “Well? What are you gonna do?” She tilted her head to the side, allowing her cheek to rest against the coolness of the wooden table. “Did you have a club in mind? If you need information or gossip, I’d be happy to share some.”

“Actually, I was invited to join the boy’s volleyball club,” Ichika told her honestly. “As their club manager, of course.”

“Seriously?” Sora perked up, eyes wide. “Day two, and you already have an _invitation_ to join a club. Not bad, Shirazome.”

“Well, it was less of an invitation and more of an offer,” Ichika hurried to correct herself. “Naoi-sensei just asked if I’d like to do the job.”

“That’s pretty much the same thing.” Sora rested her chin on the table, eyes flickering upwards with a raised brow. “But the boy’s volleyball club, huh?”

Ichika's head tilted, catching her pensive tone. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Shaking her head, Sora stood to her full height and began stretching out her legs. “It’s just... the general consensus around them is that they’re kinda... weird, y’know?” She said with a wry laugh. “At least, the ones in our year are. The third years seem normal, I guess. But Yamamoto from Class 1 has been caught _multiple_ times just staring at girls through the windows during break. Fukunaga is okay, but he's just so... quiet. And of course,” she peered over her shoulder– “there’s Kozume from our class.”

Ichika followed the brunette’s gaze, finding Kenma in his designated spot four seats to the right and one row behind. Despite it being lunchtime, he had nothing resembling a lunch out, apparently too immersed in his handheld console to eat. 

“He doesn’t really look like an athlete, does he?” Sora whispered, resting a palm on the table. “I mean, no one has ever seen him move faster than a sloth except for his hands when he’s gaming, but…” She pushed off from Ichika’s desk and began making her way towards Kenma. “I know better.”

“Hey, Kozume!” Once she was within arm’s reach of Kenma, Sora lightly smacked the boy on the back of the head. “Stop playing video games and go eat lunch!”

“H-Hanasaki-san!” Ichika jumped halfway out of her seat.

“Hanasaki…” Kenma jerked his head toward Sora, grimacing as he cast her an irritated glare. “You’re annoying.”

“Excuse me?” Sora raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of thanking me for being concerned about your lack of a survival instinct?”

“Hanasaki-san!” Ichika rushed over, attempting to mend what appeared to be growing tension between the two with an awkward smile. “If Kozume-san says he doesn’t want to eat, then there’s no need to force him.”

“No, you don’t get it, Ichika,” Sora rested a hand on her hip, while Ichika was more left wondering when they decided to drop the formalities and honorifics. “If Kozume doesn’t eat, Kuroo-san is gonna come wandering in.” She shivered dramatically at the thought. “He’s like an overprotective dad with a radar for when Kozume isn’t eating. Every day it’s, ‘Kenma, did you forget your lunch again?’ ‘Kenma, eat more vegetables!’ ‘Ken-’”

“Kenma!” As if Sora’s words were a summoning ritual, Kuroo’s familiar voice was already echoing down the hallway, and soon the boy with messy hair came wandering in, carrying two packaged sandwiches that most likely came from the school snack bar.

“See what I mean?” Despite the inherent annoyance in her voice, Ichika saw the corners of Sora’s mouth quirk up.

“Oh, Hana-chan, Shirazome.” As he approached Kenma’s desk, Kuroo greeted the two girls with a nonchalant wave. “Hey.”

“Hello.” Ichika lowered her head a little.

“I tried.” Sora said. “But he called me annoying and gave me the get-lost look.”

“So, the same as usual, then.” Kuroo laughed, setting down one of the two packaged sandwiches on Kenma’s desk. “Here, eat.”

“Mm,” Kenma hummed, though he made no effort to reach for it as he turned back to look at his game.

“Oh! Is that today’s special?” Peering down at the packaging, Sora’s eyes began to twinkle.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Kuroo nodded as he took a seat at the empty desk beside Kenma’s. He seemed determined to stay there until the gamer took at least a bite. “It’s turkey.” He began to unwrap his own, taking a bite out of it.

“And you didn’t think to get me one?”

“Ah,” Kuroo blinked, like the realization was finally sinking in. “Sorry, I forgot.” Despite his words, his mouth hinted at a smile as he took a falsely innocent tone. Sora huffed.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” She narrowed her eyes at Kuroo before reaching out to grab Ichika by the arm. “Ugh, I’ll just go buy it myself. Come on, Ichika!”

“Huh? O-Okay…” Feeling herself being dragged towards the door, Ichika could only nod.

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh a little at the blonde’s confused expression. “Already dragging the new kid around? How tyrannical of you, Hana-chan,” he teased. “Might wanna take some tryptophan supplements to help boost your mood.”

“Shut up, old man!” Like a child, Sora turned back around and stuck out her tongue before marching out of the classroom.

“It was good to see you, Kuroo-san,” was all Ichika managed to get out before being dragged around the corner, following Sora into the main hallway.

“Ugh, doesn’t he have friends his own age to hang out with?” Sora grumbled under her breath. “Always coming to our class and spouting science facts. It’s a miracle that nerd became the _captain_ of all things.”

Ichika chuckled at Sora’s seemingly never-ending list of complaints. “You three seem close.”

“What makes you think that?!” Sora snapped her head around, the disbelief apparent on her face.

“Just an observation,” Ichika’s eyes crinkled. “Are you childhood friends?”

“I wouldn’t call us that. We’re just acquaintances, probably.” Sora’s frown softened a little. “It’s just I’ve been in the same class as Kozume since kindergarten. We didn’t hang out a lot per se; he was just always there. As for Kuro-san, he transferred to our school when we were in second-grade, so I guess we were about six or seven? Well, he’s a year older than us, so eight for him.” Throwing her arms behind her head, her gaze flickered upwards. “At first, he stuck around Kozume at school, so I’d see him from time to time. And as the years went by, we just got to know each other.”

“I see.”

“Either way, they’re not bad people. Maybe a little annoying, but not bad,” Sora reached her arms up, giving a lazy stretch before letting them fall to her sides. “By the way, do you need anything from the school store? They make a mean sandwich if you wanna give that a shot.”

“Not today. I actually brought my own lunch.”

“Oh.” Sora blinked rapidly. “Wait, then did I just drag you out for no reason?”

“No, it’s fine.” Ichika shook her head as they began descending the stairs towards the first floor. “It would be nice to go check out the store. Just to see what they have.”

“I guess…” Sora still didn’t look convinced. She scratched the back of her head, abashed. “Sorry about that, Ichika.”

Hearing her name spill from Sora’s mouth once again, Ichika’s body went stiff. 

“Hm? Is something wrong?”

“N-Not really. It’s just my name...” Ichika’s voice trailed off.

“Ah!” Realizing the problem, Sora immediately covered her mouth. “Sorry, it just kinda came out. Would you rather I call you Shirazome?”

After a moment of consideration, a soft smile spread across Ichika’s face at Sora’s genuine attitude. “No, it’s alright,” she said. “Just Ichika is fine.”

“Oh, good.” Sora breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be honest, I’m not really good with the whole formalities thing. So just call me Sora, okay?”

Ichika nodded with a sound, ‘mhm.’

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, Sora directed Ichika towards the entrance of the school building, just beyond the shoe lockers, where the school store stood. They passed by several of the first-year classrooms, many of which kept their doors wide-open as students entered and exited the rooms, either leaving or coming back from lunch.

“So, are you going to say yes to joining the volleyball club?” Sora hummed. 

Ichika pressed her lips together. “I still don’t know yet,” she murmured, looking a little lost in thought. “What club are you in?”

“Me?” Sora’s shoulders tensed a little as her gaze shifted to the side. “Well, uhh… I’m part of the ‘Going Home Club.’”

Ichika’s mind blanked out for a second, before she realized what Sora meant. “So you’re not part of any club.”

Sora stuttered as she realized how harsh that came out. “W-Well, there’s nothing wrong with that!” She turned away with a guilty smile. “I mean, I have a part-time job. Not everyone has time for clubs, you know?”

“That’s true,” Ichika chuckled. 

“Anyways, the boy’s volleyball club...”

“Yes?” Ichika nodded in anticipation. 

“I don’t actually think they’re all that weird, personally.” Reaching up to tighten her ponytail, Sora spoke honestly. “I mean, it’s true that some of them can be a bit awkward and… annoying. But I think people at our school just don’t understand them. The ‘volleyball’ they play is nothing like the pathetic stuff we do in gym class. They’re way more... how should I put this? Exciting? Exhilarating?”

“I think I know what you mean,” Ichika suddenly cut in, eyes round with an emotion Sora couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I only watched them for a little yesterday, but the way they lunged and dove for the ball, the way they’d jump and coordinate their attacks... every time you think the ball is about to touch the floor, someone would somehow be right there to save it. It kind of made my heart race.” She stopped mid-stride, staring down at her open palms as the lingering thrill from watching the boys practice tingled in the tips of her fingers. “I got this sudden urge to move. I want to play with them, to… join them.”

Sora looked back at Ichika, studying her for a moment before tilting her head. “Then you already know what you wanna do, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Ichika met her gaze as the words that mindlessly slipped out of her mouth finally began to process. “Ah!”

“There you go,” Sora laughed a little, gently nudging the blonde in the arm and urging her to keep moving. “Go join the boy’s volleyball club. Maybe you can even help soften their image.”

Ichika peered down at her hands for a bit before glancing back up at Sora. A smile tugged at her lips. “You say you’re not friends, but actually really care about Kozume-san and Kuroo-san, don’t you?” she said, allowing her arms to fall limp at her sides.

“W-What?!” Sora nearly got whiplash from turning her head to face Ichika’s accusation.

“You’ve been watching their games, haven’t you? Enough to notice the way they play.”

“Well, I’ve been going to the same school as them for so long, it’d be weird if I _didn’t_ know.” Twisting her lips to the side, Sora countered. “Besides, the vending machine next to the volleyball gym is the only one with the mango flavoured calpico drink, so I just _happen_ to see them often.”

Ichika giggled into her hand, covering her mouth. 

“What’s so funny?” Sora raised an eyebrow.

“It’s cute when you’re all defensive,” Ichika remarked, sending the brunette into another fit.

“Hey! Were you listening to me at all!? I said I just _happened_ to see them; it’s a _coincidence_!”

“What do we call people like you again? A tsundere?”

“Don’t make me regret inviting you to lunch.” Jerking her head back to face forward, Sora hissed through gritted teeth.

“Speaking of which,” Ichika cocked her head to the side. “Why _did_ you invite me to lunch? Don’t you already have someone you eat with?”

Sora scoffed. “Of course I do! But she’s busy today,” she said, as she reached up to scratch the back of her head. “Some student council meeting. Besides–” her grey eyes briefly shifted over to Ichika before looking away. “You looked lonely, just sitting there by yourself.”

Ichika stilled for a moment, mouth hanging slightly agape. But it didn’t take long before she once again chuckled into her hand.

“W-What is it now?” 

“You’re adorable, Sora.”

“S-Shut up!”

**_***_ **

In Class 1-3, four boys were gathered by the corner desk closest to the backdoor of the classroom.

“Have you guys decided which club you’re joining yet?”

“Yeah, I was part of the soccer club in middle school, so I think I’m gonna keep doing that.”

“I was thinking I’d join the broadcasting club,” one of them chimed in. “A super cute upperclassman approached me about it on the first day.”

“That sounds so shallow,” another remarked with a playful nudge. “Hey, what about you, Haiba?”

“Hmm…” Sitting in his seat, a ridiculously tall boy with grey hair hummed. His brows were furrowed, arms crossed over his chest as he appeared to be deeply contemplating the question. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Weren’t you already approached by like, four sports clubs?”

“Basketball, soccer, badminton, track.” The first boy gave a dry laugh. “You’re already so popular, Haiba.”

With his eyes closed, the boy with grey hair pursed his lips. “I don’t know. None of them really speak to me…”

It was then, the voice of an upperclassman echoed out from the school hallway.

_“Go join the boy’s volleyball club. Maybe you can even help soften their image.”_

His green eyes shot wide. “Volleyball…?” he uttered as if struck by an epiphany. Jolting up from his seat to stand at his full, towering height, he exclaimed: “That’s it! The volleyball club!”

**_***_ **

“One, two, three, four… Two, two, three, four…” As Kuroo led warm-up stretches, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance towards where Nekomata was sitting. Unlike him and many others on the team, the coach didn’t seem too fazed by the absence of his granddaughter. Had she perhaps already rejected the offer to be their club manager?

Unlike Yamamoto, Kuroo never really saw the need of having a manager, or for them to be a female at that. Yaku was doing just fine, taking charge of the various errands a manager was supposed to run. And Shibayama had made it clear that he wouldn’t mind pitching in from time to time. But what really piqued his curiosity was Ichika’s relationship with Nekomata. He had never heard of his coach having a granddaughter, not even in passing. And neither could he figure out why she would suddenly move-in with her grandfather in the city in the middle of her high school career.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Based on the interactions he had seen, the two seemed close. But anyone with a little observation skills could probably pick up the lingering tension between them – not in a hostile sense, but in the sense that Ichika seemed to have no idea how to act around Nekomata.

Or could that just be her personality?

No. Judging by how well she handled both Yamamoto the day before and Sora at lunchtime, her people skills and social adaptability seem pretty well-honed.

So what was it then?

As if the universe was offering him a chance to answer his burning questions, the sound of a knock filled the gym. Heads turned, and sure enough, there stood Ichika, carrying her school bag in one hand and holding a piece of paper in the other.

“Ichika-chan!” Coach Naoi’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Are you here to observe practice again?”

“Actually, I already made a decision.” She passed the piece of paper to Coach Naoi with a knowing smile. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Through the excited gasps and Yamamoto’s cries for a celebration, Kuroo noticed the small hints of a grin dancing across Coach Nekomata’s face.

“Of course we will.” Taking the club application form in his hands, Naoi nodded with a satisfied expression before turning to the boys. “I know you guys have already met, but why don’t you formally introduce yourselves to your new manager.”

Kuroo glanced at Ichika, who caught his gaze. They exchanged a quick nod and smile as the captain ushered the team into a straight line, just like at the start of any volleyball match.

“Please take care of us!” Their blend of voices resonated throughout the gym as they collectively bowed their heads. Ichika chuckled at the endearing sight.

“Me too, please take care of me-”

Just as she was about to finish her sentence and bow her head, the crash of the outer gym door slamming open cut her off and an excitable voice rang out in succession. 

“Excuse me! Is this the boy’s volleyball club?”

Startled by the intruder, Naoi poked his head out. “Y-Yes? Is there something you need?”

Ichika spun on her heel, spotting a boy with neatly parted grey hair and a pair of emerald green eyes. He had long limbs and legs, practically towering over her like a giant from the fairytales.

“My name is Haiba Lev.” He puffed out his chest. “I’d like to join your club!”

**On April 10th, 2012, Shirazome Ichika & Haiba Lev joined the Nekoma Boys' Volleyball Club.**


	3. Nekoma High’s Cats Volley Tournament!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays & Happy New Year everyone!!

**Ichika hummed** , twiddling with her cell phone as she once again attempted to navigate the chaotic labyrinth, also known as the Tokyo subway system. No matter how much she stared at it, the diagram just didn’t seem to get any easier to read. Perhaps the secret to understanding this complex puzzle of colourful crossing lines really did come with time and experience, as her grandfather had advised. 

“Huh? Shira-chan?” As if it were godsent, a familiar voice called out to her just like on the first day of school. Ichika glanced to the side, more than relieved to find Kuroo and Kenma standing about five feet away.

It’s been about a week since Ichika officially joined the boys’ volleyball club as their manager, and so far, the job of a manager has been a busy one. Granted, she did know that it wouldn’t be as easy as others made it out to be. As the former captain of her middle school’s Kyudo Club, Ichika often had to take up the managerial role thanks to her school’s already small population and an even smaller member count. She thought she had a pretty good idea what being a manager was like: filling up water bottles, distributing towels during practice, and helping with clean up after. But she didn’t also expect to be required to keep tabs on each of the members. Serving, spiking, setting, blocking and receiving; whenever a player makes any move on the court, be it in a practice set or match, it was her job to spot it and jot down whether they were successful or not.

Either way, Ichika was grateful for the opportunity since it really helped her hammer in everyone’s names. Especially Haiba Lev, whose pages were mostly filled with crosses for his failed serves, spikes, sets, blocks and receives.

Either way, the day’s practice concluded about forty ago. After spending a good thirty minutes mopping up the gym and taking down the volleyball nets, Ichika excused herself first as her grandfather gathered the boys for a small announcement.

With that in mind, Ichika glanced down at her phone. 

6:01 p.m.

She’s been staring at the board for about seven minutes.

“Kuroo-san, Kozume-san,” Ichika greeted them with a small nod and a smile. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They went to go grab something to eat at 8-11,” Kuroo scratched the back of his head. “But Kenma has something going on at home, so we’re heading back first. What’re  _ you _ doing?”

“I, erm,” Ichika looked back at the subway system map, not knowing exactly how to word her predicament to sound less like the lost lamb she already was.

Kenma seemed to pick up on her hesitance as he tilted his head to the side. “Are you lost again?” 

Ichika turned back to the two boys with a guilty smile. “A little...”

Kuroo barely held back his urge to laugh. “Again?” He managed to say with his lips screwed to the side. With his hands in his pockets, he approached her with a dramatic sigh. “I thought you had things figured out, Shira-chan. How did you get home all week?”

“Oh, I’m not heading home,” Ichika smiled compliantly, appearing not at all phased by his provoking tone. “I’m actually on my way to Sangen-Jaya Station.”

That seemed to shut Kuroo up a little. “Sangen-Jaya Station?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I have an appointment,” Ichika explained, turning back to the map as Kuroo leaned in closer to look it over alongside her. “But I have no idea how to get there again.” She cupped a hand to her cheek in embarrassment.

“I see,” Kuroo hummed. “The best way to Sangen-Jaya is...” He clicked his tongue, index finger floating across the various routes she could take to her desired destination.

“Take the Oedo Line to Aoyama-Itchome Station, then transfer onto the Hanzomon Line.” Still staring down at his smartphone, Kenma spoke quietly, causing both Kuroo and Ichika to look over with surprise. He showed them his phone screen. “That’s what the GPS says. It’s the quickest route.”

“Ohhh,” they both sounded in realization.

“Well, if you’re going that route, you need to go this way.” Kuroo returned his attention to the map, dragging his finger from where Nerima Station is down the pink subway line before making a rigid turn onto the purple line. “Then you switch onto this one, which is the Hanzomon Line.”

“I see,” Ichika hummed, hurrying to open the notes software on her brick-like phone and began typing the directions in one painstaking letter at a time. “I guess that GPS thing is pretty useful in a big city, huh?” She remarked to no one in particular.

“‘That GPS thing?’”

“It’s useful anywhere,” Kenma corrected her.

“Do you also wanna write down the way back? I could explain them to you,” Kuroo then asked, slightly concerned with the possibility of his coach’s granddaughter being stuck out at Sangen-Jaya at a god-knows-what hour at night. He remembered when he first moved to the big city, navigating his way between the winding skyscrapers and complicated subway systems with his grandmother were undoubtedly some of the most intimidating and trying times of his eight-year-old life. He turned back to the map. “Do you live near Nakameguro Station?”

“Mhm,” Ichika nodded, sneaking a look up at the board as she typed in the next words. “I live in the Nakameguro district.”

Kuroo exchanged a glance with Kenma, slightly taken aback. He had heard rumours of their coach moving to a new place in the new year; he just didn’t expect it to be in the same neighbourhood as them.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat, quickly recomposing himself. “Then you gotta go this way,” he placed his index finger back on Sangen-Jaya Station. “First, take the Den-en-toshi Local Line,” he dragged his finger down a teal green line, not emerald or lime green like the other two lines somewhere on the map. “Then get off at Shibuya Station and switch onto Toyoko Line. Two stops and you’re there.” He tapped the white dot along the red line of the map.

Ichika nodded along, trying her best to keep up with Kuroo’s directions as her thumbs quickened across the dial pad. She had no idea what the words she typed down meant; she’ll figure it out later.

Kenma couldn’t help but cringe at the continuous loud clicking that came out of Ichika’s ancient device she called a phone. Every time she attempted to type a letter, she’d have to cycle through every single hiragana with the same sound in order to reach the desired one. It was painful for him to watch from the sidelines, but her nonchalant expression made it worse.

“You know, you should really get an upgrade for that thing.”

“Hm?” Ichika glanced over, meeting his gaze with curious eyes.

“Ah, erm. Well…” Kenma quickly turned away, having unintentionally voiced his thoughts out loud. “Isn’t it inconvenient, using such an old phone?”

In this face of his timidness, Ichika only smiled. “I appreciate your concern, but this works fine for me.”

“But aren’t you at least fed up with how slow and… loud that thing is?” Kuroo chimed in.

“Hm, not really.” Shifting her attention back to her dial pad, Ichika shrugged. “I’ve been using it my entire life at this point, so I don’t see a need to change it now. Besides, it just feels like an unnecessary purchase when this one works fine.”

“You sound like an old lady.”

“Frugality is a Virtue, Kuroo-san.”

Kenma frowned. If money was really such a concern, she could probably go out and find a quality flip phone at some second-hand shops for a cheap price. It was no smartphone, but it would certainly be loads better than the literal brick she had.

Either way, it wasn’t his problem, so he didn’t pursue the subject.

“By the way, Shira-chan. Starting tomorrow, do you wanna walk to school with us?”

“Huh?” Ichika turned to look at him.

“Erm, well…” Kuroo averted his eyes, trying to figure out how he’d word this properly. “Kenma and I both live around the same area, so it makes sense, right? Besides, we’ll just end up running into each other at the station anyway.”

He wasn’t wrong. For the past week or so, Ichika has run into the two of them on the train platform more than half of the time. To the point where they mine as well be walking to school together.

“I’m fine with that, but,” Ichika blinked. “What’s with that nickname?”

“Hm?”

“Since this morning, you’ve been calling me Shira-chan.”

“What’s wrong with it? I thought it'd be a cute nickname for you,” Kuroo mused at the blonde’s perplexed expression.

“You have a bad taste in names,” Kenma said.

“Ouch, I’m hurt,” the dark-haired boy pressed a hand to his chest in feigned offence. “It’s just weird to call her Shirazome all the time.”

Ichika didn’t mind it per se; it just took her by surprise.

“You can call me by my first name, you know?” She pointed out. “It’s what everyone else in the club does.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Kuroo waved. “Just go with it, Shira-chan~.”

Ichika gave a blank look. Her eyes flickered to Kenma for help, only for him to shrug in response as if telling her to resign to her fate.

“I understand,” she sighed. “But if you’re going to call me that, I’ll be calling you Kuro-san from now on.” She placed her phone back into her bag.

It took Kuroo a second to process what she said, but a Cheshire grin soon spread across his face. “Is that a challenge?”

“Ara, not at all,” Ichika chuckled as she met Kuroo’s gaze with an acquiesce smile. “Just a little revenge on my part. Besides, unlike your nickname everyone in the club already calls you that. I don’t see a problem if I do too.”

Kuroo’s eyes shifted to the side. She had a point there.

“Now then,” she readjusted her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you both for your help. If you’ll excuse me, I have a train to catch.”

“See you tomorrow,” Kenma waved.

Ichika responded with a small nod and was about to walk off when Kuroo called out to her.

“Tomorrow, we’ll meet you in front of ‘ _ The City _ ,’” he said. “It’s that bakery across the south gates of Nakameguro Station. Got it, Shira-chan?”

Ichika’s eyes rounded, but she soon huffed out a laugh. “Understood, Kuro-san.”

Kenma deadpanned at their exchange.

Did either of them realize those nicknames are most commonly given to  _ cats _ ?

**_***_ **

_ “The next stop is Sangen-Jaya. The doors on the right side will open. Please change here for the T0kyu Setagaya Line.” _

Ichika closed her volleyball handbook. The mixed scents of leather, body odour, hair products and perfume created a stagnant air she had yet to get used to, and she was almost certain she never would. Fresh whiffs of pine and cedar back in Nanto were the things she grew up on, along with the ethereal scent of hyacinths coming from the master bedroom of her small family home in the village-

Her eyes dulled at the memory. But the universe didn’t give her much time to dwell on it as the doors soon scraped open with the whistling of the overheated brakes. She squeezed past two salarymen and got out of the cart.

Scanning her pass at the fare scanner, Ichika checked her phone.

6:38 p.m.

She still had a bit of time.

It was then, the familiar jingle of a convenient store door opening caught her attention as she looked across the street. Without another thought, she began to make her way towards the crosswalk.

Entering the brightly lit store, she grabbed a basket and scanned the perimeter, quickly locating the snack aisle.

“Oh, they have some new flavours,” she gasped in delight, picking out a few packages of chocolates.

After grabbing a few packs of chips, various other candies and a drink to add to her basket, Ichika then headed for the check-out counter, lucky to arrive before a mother-son duo.

“Welcome,” the cashier smiled. As he began scanning her items, Ichika kept an eye on the price, watching the numbers hit 1,479 yen after scanning the last bag of chocolate. She pursed her lips.

“Could I also get a pack of gum?”

“Sure,” the cashier nodded. “What flavour?”

Ichika was about to respond, only for the little boy behind her to pipe up. 

“Mom, mom! I also want some gum,” he said, gently tugging on his mom’s hand. 

The mother sighed. “Not today, okay? I’ll get you some tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” the boy, about four-to-five years old, whined. “And the day before, and the day before that-”

“I know, I know,” the young mother peered up at Ichika and the cashier with an apologetic look. “Just hold on, okay? You’re getting your favourite salmon onigiri for dinner tonight.”

“But I want gum!”

Ichika stared down at the little boy, watching as he threw a tantrum in the middle of the store. Something tightened in her chest, extending all the way to her throat.

“Which flavour?” She bent down to get on eye-level with him.

“Huh?”

“Which flavour would you like?” She repeated her question, intentionally keeping her tone soft, so the boy had to quiet down to listen.

“Cotton Candy!” The boy’s eyes brightened. 

“Good choice,” Ichika laughed a little. Standing up straight, she then turned to the cashier, who nodded in response, immediately picking out the corresponding flavour off the gum rack behind the counter.

“Oh, no,” the mother began to panic as Ichika reached into her bag for her wallet. “Please, you don’t need to do that-”

“It’s alright. I don’t really like gum anyway,” Ichika assured the woman, who didn’t look entirely convinced. “I actually got it to round my bill up to 1,500 yen,” she then added, pulling out a small card labelled ‘8-11 Rewards Card’ and passing it to the cashier. 

“O-Oh,” the woman didn’t know what to say, watching as the young man across the counter added a new stamp to the list, bringing Ichika two away from a full card.

Once she finished paying, the cashier handed Ichika the pack of gum before moving on to bagging her purchases into the store’s labelled grocery bag. Taking the chance, Ichika once again crouched down before the young boy.

“Here you go,” she gingerly placed the gum into his hands and ruffled his hair. “But don’t cause any more trouble for your mom, okay? She’s doing her best.”

Holding the small package within his hands as if it were a sacred treasure of some sort, the boy nodded. “Thank you, onee-chan!” He said, eyes gleaming with joy.

“Thank you,” the mother bowed in gratitude. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s alright, really.” Taking the grocery bag from the cashier, Ichika smiled back. “I did it for myself too.”

Letting the familiar jingle ring out behind her, Ichika turned right and continued down the street until she reached a building labelled “Sangen Therapy Office.” Without even bothering to look up at the sign, she walked in and headed up the stairs towards the second floor.

“Yes?” A voice hollered back as Ichika knocked on the oak door, followed by a set of hasty footsteps. The door creaked open to reveal a young lady who seemed to be in her early thirties, with long brown hair tied back into a bun and a set of metal rim glasses to frame her face. She looked to be the very embodiment of the phrase ‘adult charm.’

“Ah, you must be Ichika-chan,” her hazel eyes lit up upon recognizing her. “Come in, come in. You’re just on time.”

Ichika nodded in thanks as she followed the young woman into the building, making sure to close the door behind herself.

The front office was small and relatively neat, with a seating area, beverage stand and small bookshelf lodged into the corner. The woman picked up a small clipboard sitting on the coffee table and skimmed over her information once more. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, gently marking something off the paper. “My name is Aida Chieko, and I’m going to be your new therapist here in Tokyo. But I’m sure Nekomata-san already told you that.”

“He did,” Ichika nodded absently, still trying to survey the office. It looked a lot like the one back in Nanto. “Nice to meet you, Aida-san.”

Aida chuckled. “Since you’re already here, why don’t we get started?” She opened a door that led to one of the rooms and gestured for Ichika to follow. “Make yourself comfortable. If you want to get something to drink, feel free to do that now.”

“It’s okay.” Following her into the second office space, Ichika shook her head. “I already have a drink with me,” she rustled the plastic bag in her hand.

Aida took a seat in one of the room’s two big armchairs, watching as the girl with blonde hair set aside her school bag and convenient store purchases before sinking into the leather couch. She took a deep breath.

“Well then, Ichika-chan,” Aida peered down at the files in her hands. “I’m sure you’ve heard this from your last therapist as well, but there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally, acceptance,” she pushed up her glasses. “Which stage do you believe you’re on?”

Ichika stared down at her hands, watching as they fidgeted a little before meeting Aida’s gaze.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.

**_***_ **

“Alright, should we get started?”

Ichika knew there was something up when she noticed the first-years' heightened sense of focus, perhaps even nervousness, as they walked into the gym that Friday. Yaku’s words after warm-up only confirmed her suspicions.

“Um…” Setting down the tray of refilled water bottles, Ichika hummed. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’re we doing today?”

“Oh, I guess you didn’t hear about it since you left early that day,” Yaku glanced at her. “Today’s our annual Cat’s Volley Tournament.”

“Cats… Volley Tournament?” Ichika cocked her head to the side.

“It sounds a lot more serious than it actually is,” Kai assured. “Basically, it’s a day where the first-years go through a few intensive drills for the coaches to get a sense of where their abilities are. But to make it more fun, we turn it into a little competition where you can earn points and stuff.”

“I see. But why is it called the ‘Cat’s Volley Tournament?’”

“Because it’s a day dedicated to volleyball!” Lev interjected.

“Isn’t that every day though?” Inuoka pointed out.

“Today, especially!”

“What kind of logic is that?” Kenma murmured to himself.

“Either way,” Clearing his throat, Kuroo stepped into the conversation. “It’s a tradition that began when Coach Naoi was still in high school, so we’re just keeping it up. Oh, but I did hear the reason it’s called this is because the person who came up with this tradition didn’t know what else to call it.”

“Isn’t that too arbitrary?” Yamamoto asked as he lugged over a court pole alongside Fukunaga. “And hey, you first-years! Don’t stand around there; come and help!”

“Yessir!”

“Now, now.” Holding his hands behind his back, Kai laughed. “I’m sure that person didn’t realize they’d be naming a generational tradition when they came up with this idea.”

“But I heard this day was supposed to be held on the first Friday of the school year,” Shibayama said as he helped to insert the first court pole into the gym floor. “Why are we a week late?”

“Well, we had some pretty helpless newcomers this year,” Kuroo shrugged, looking in the direction of the gym storage room where the silver-haired titan ran off.

Ichika chuckled. “Ara ara, Kuro-san, you aren’t subtle at all.”

“If he sucks, just tell him he sucks,” Yaku added with a curt nod. “Like straight to his face.”

“Could  _ you _ at least try and be a little more subtle?” Kuroo deadpanned.

**_***_ **

Kai wasn’t kidding when he said  _ intensive _ drills. With the four first-years split into two groups on either side of the net, they were tasked with performing serve-receives as Kuroo, Kai, Yamamoto, and Fukunaga threw everything they had at them from the opposite side of the court. The first-year’s jobs were to perform perfect passes to where the ‘setter’ would be standing, which was where Kenma and Yaku waited to catch the ball and toss them back to the servers at the backline. And as the scorekeeper, Ichika would mark down each player’s points depending on the quality of the pass, with an A-pass equating to 3 points, B-pass equating to 2, and C-pass equating to 1. 

So far, Shibayama was in the lead with a total of 74 points, followed by Teshiro with 68 points, Inuoka with 53 and finally Lev with 27 points. 

“Lev!” Yaku was practically spewing flames. “The ball is flying all over the place!”

“I’m sorry!” The silver-haired boy shrieked. “It’s just not going the way I want it to!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to drop your hips lower?!”

“It’s almost amazing how inaccurate he is,” Ichika remarked over the squeaking of sneakers. “If C-passes didn’t get one point, he’d have five or six points at best.”

“He’s helpless,” Naoi looked just about ready to bury his head in the sand.

Nekomata just laughed. “Alright,” he peered up at the gym clock. “Let’s take a break.”

“Take a break!” Naoi called out.

Setting aside her notebook and pen, Ichika hurried to grab the water bottle carry tray and the stack of towels situated to the side of the gym. She lugged them over to the boys and began passing them out accordingly.

“Good work,” she told them.

Approaching the blonde with Lev trailing not far behind him, Yaku gave a nod in thanks as he took the water bottle and threw the towel over his neck. “I’d give you negative points if I could,” he said to the giant behind him.

“That’s so mean!”

Ichika laughed a little at their exchange as she handed Lev his water bottle and a towel, watching the silver-haired boy pout at his poor performance.

“Hey, Lev-kun?” She called out to him mid-drink.

“Hm?”

Ichika gestured for him to come closer. “This is just an observation,” she whispered, “but aren’t you receiving the ball too close to your thumb?”

“Huh?” Lev looked confused.

“It’s like,” setting down the water bottle tray and extra towels, Ichika extended her arms out. “Right now, you’re receiving the ball around here.” She traced her index finger along the curve of her thumb. “I think if you try receiving it higher up on your arm, you’d have more surface area to control the ball.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

Resting a hand to his chin, Lev thought for a moment before looking at her. “Alright, then let’s try it out!” He shouted, tossing his towel and water bottle.

“What? Right now?” Ichika blinked.

“Of course!”

“But you’re still in the middle of a break-”

“I want to try it right now though.” Balling his hand into a fist, Lev looked more determined than ever.

Ichika couldn’t help but be taken in by his enthusiasm. “Okay,” she smiled. “Let’s give it a shot.”

“Thank you very much!”

“Hm? Looks like something interesting is happening.” Kuroo mused, watching as Lev and Ichika situated themselves on one side of the court. “Is our manager gonna help our helpless newbie with practice?”

“Speaking of which, can Ichika-san play volleyball?” Inuoka asked as he took a sip of his water.

“The coach must’ve taught her something, right?” Teshiro murmured. 

“Ichika-san playing volleyball… I can’t wait to see it!”

“Stop it, Yamamoto. You sound like a pervert.”

“Are you ready?” Ichika asked. For the sake of practice, she situated both she and Lev on one side of the court, just so he can get used to the feeling of passing before having to deal with a net in his face.

“Yep!” Lev called back as he squatted down, eyes trained on the ball in her hands.

“Alright, then here we go!”

_ What kind of serve will our manager do? _ \- was the collective thought of the boys as Ichika slowly reeled back…

And gave an underhand throw in Lev’s direction.

“That’s so plain!” Yamamoto yelled out.

But thanks to how plain and simple the toss was, it gave Lev enough time to process and position himself, allowing him to receive it on the sweet spot of his forearm. The ball bounced right back toward Ichika, to which she caught in her arms. 

“Ohhh!” Kai gasped in amazement, but it was nothing compared to Lev’s excitement.

“I did it!” The silver-haired boy exclaimed, staring down at the reddened marks on his arms. “The ball went the way I wanted it to go! Did you see that Ichika-san?! You saw that, right?”

“She was right in front of you,” said Kuroo. “I’d be concerned if she didn’t.”

Ignoring their captain’s side comments, Ichika clapped her hands with a proud smile. “Yes, I did. That was amazing, an A-pass! Good job!”

“I did a good job, right?”

“Definitely!”

“Isn’t he getting too excited over a single receive?” Yaku said, watching as Lev basked in the praise of their manager over something as simple as a pass.

Kuroo hummed. Setting aside his bottle and towel, he walked over and plucked the ball right out of Ichika’s arm from behind. “Lev,” he stared straight at the first-year. “If you want to prove you’ve gotten so much better at receiving, Shira-chan’s crappy tosses won’t do anything for you.”

Something irked in Ichika.

_ Crappy? _

“What do you say?” Kuroo pointed the volleyball at Lev with a smug expression. “Wanna try receiving one of your captain’s serves?”

There was a brief moment of silence as Lev considered his options. But then, with a ready grin, he gave one, firm nod. “Let’s do this, senpai.”

To this, Yamamoto burst out laughing while the others tried to contain theirs.

“What the hell is that? Sounds so lame!” He hollered. “What are you? Some shounen protagonist?”

Ichika snickered into her hand as subtly as she could. “Kuro-san, please go easy on him.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be on break?” Kenma grumbled to himself.

**_***_ **

Kuroo did not go easy on him. Five jump serves later, and Lev was kneeling on the ground in defeat, barely being able to direct the ball back to Ichika, who stood where the setter would be.

“Damnit!” Lev slammed his fist into the ground, no longer being able to gloat about his perfect passes.

“Well, well.” Kuroo had a victorious grin slapped across his face. Resting a hand to his hip, he stepped closer to the net. “That one receive must’ve been just pure luck, huh?”

“Kuro-san, you have a terrible personality, you know?”

“Tell me that when you’re not trying to hold in your laughter.”

“Ara ara, what are you talking about?” Ichika lifted her face from her hand, but it was still difficult to hide the hints of a smile. “Unlike you, I find absolutely no amusement in this at all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I really thought I was getting better!” Sitting up, Lev stared up at the gymnasium ceiling. “I guess I still have a long way to go.”

Feeling a little bad for his melancholy expression, Ichika crouched down beside him. “Jump serves can be a little difficult to receive, so I don’t blame you,” she said, still trying to wipe away the lingering grin on her face. “Those tend to have a strong topspin that drags down the ball. So this is where you need to listen to Yaku-san’s advice. Drop your hips lower so you can get underneath the ball to receive it.”

“I see…” Lev hummed a little before breaking into a wide smile. “Thank you, Ichika-san.”

Yamamoto had just about enough of Lev monopolizing their new manager. He turned to the first-years.

“Shibayama.”

“Yes?”

“Send me a toss.”

“Huh? Why?” The boy with jet black hair looked confused.

“Don’t ask questions, just do it!”

“O-Okay…”

Without much of an option, Shibayama set aside his water bottle and towel and picked up a ball, sending an overhead toss in Yamamoto’s direction.

To which he missed on purpose.

“Oh no~!” He squealed loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “It looks like I need some help with my terrible, terrible receiving skills. Ichika-san, do you think you can give me some pointers?”

“Seriously?” Yaku raised an eyebrow while Kai just laughed along with his underclassmen’s antics.

“Yamamoto-san,” Ichika’s eyes crinkled, and Yamamoto’s face began to brighten.

“Today’s tournament is dedicated to the first-years. Please stop messing around.”

All the colours left Yamamoto, and he began to sulk.

“Really?” Inuoka, on the other hand, perked up at her statement. “Does that mean we can ask for advice too?”

“Of course.”

Faces gleaming with excitement, the first years quickly gathered around the blonde, eyes expecting.

“W-Well,” a little overwhelmed by their enthusiasm, Ichika took a second to recompose herself. “Inuoka-kun, you need to work on reading the ball’s trajectory,” she explained. “You’re one of the fastest players we have. So if you can get a better sense of that, your speed will definitely work out for us as an advantage.”

“Yes!” The brown-haired boy nodded eagerly.

“Shibayama-kun, you have some really solid receives, but you need to be a little more confident. Instead of asking yourself, ‘is the ball going to fall there,’  _ know _ that the ball will fall there, and you  _ will _ be there to get it. Does that make sense?”

“Y-Yes!” Shibayama stood a little straighter. “Thank you very much!”

“And Teshiro-kun,” she turned to perhaps the most composed boy of the trio. “You’re calm and level-headed, but you have a tendency to get tunnel-vision and hyperfocus on one thing. Remember to pay attention to your surroundings and the entire flow of the game.”

“Understood,” The boy with short, light hair nodded, though he looked like he still had more to say. After thinking for a moment, he spoke up once more.

“Um, Ichika-san?” 

“Yes?”

“Do you play volleyball?” He asked the question that was practically on everyone else’s minds.

“Eh?” Taken by surprise, Ichika didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, we’ve all been curious about it,” Inuoka chimed in. “Did Coach Nekomata teach you? Were you playing ever since you were little?”

“No, not really,” Ichika was quick to deny the notion. “I’ve only really played volleyball in gym class.”

“Then did you go to a super sports-intensive middle school?” Lev’s eyes widened.

Ichika shook her head. “No, I went to a regular middle school. I actually can’t play volleyball at all. Rather, I’m pretty bad at it.”

“No way…” Shibayama was in disbelief.

“I just understand the theory in concept,” she explained. “I can’t pull it off in execution.”

“Now, now.” Ducking under the volleyball net, Kuroo approached the small cluster of first-years and Ichika. “Have some confidence, Shira-chan,” he said as he plopped the volleyball into her hands. “It can’t get any worse than Lev’s serves.”

“Wait, am I the low bar here?” Lev pointed at himself.

Ichika looked down at the volleyball, then back at Kuroo. “No, they’re definitely worse than Lev-kun’s.”

“Don’t agree with him!”

Kuroo chuckled at her response. “Well, it can’t be any worse than that  _ crappy _ toss you just did.”

Ichika felt her fingers twitch around the volleyball. This time she definitely heard him.

She opened her mouth, about to respond when Lev interrupted her.

“Serve it to me!” Raising his hand, the giant jumped to his feet with a wide smile. “I’ll receive it!”

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” Kai stepped onto the court alongside Yaku.

Ichika looked around. She could handle Kuroo’s provocation, but when faced with Lev’s sincerity and the other everyone else’s earnest encouragement… 

She then glanced towards the two coaches, neither of them making a move to stop her. 

“Alright,” she sighed in defeat. “I’ll try.”

Taking a few steps back, Ichika positioned herself back where she gave Lev that underhand toss. She held the volleyball in both hands, absently rubbing her fingers against the synthetic leather as the others moved out of the way, giving Lev ample room to move around and receive the ball.

Ichika still felt a little nervous despite his hunched form and ready expression. 

“Um, Lev-kun,” she gave him an apologetic smile. “If you ever feel unsafe, feel free to dodge, okay?”

“Huh?” He cocked his head to the side.

Steadying her breath, Ichika lined up her shot and threw the ball into the air.

The booming noise that resonated as her palm made an impact with the ball shook the gym to its core, to the point where anyone would be forgiven for mistaking the sound as an actual clap of thunder, drumming in the skies outside. The Mikasa ball zipped through the airstreams like an arrow, perfectly parallel to the ground, charging towards Lev at high speed that threatened to punch him in the throat. Luckily, the boy’s instincts kicked in, and he shifted his weight to the side, barely avoiding the deadly attack. Though he could still feel a slight breeze against his cheek as the ball whizzed by.

Like a bull, the volleyball rammed into the wall almost thirty feet behind him, causing another inhumane noise to echo out before dropping to the gymnasium floor in a series of bounces.

Everything went quiet.

“See?” Ichika turned to the boys as if that was just another daily occurrence.

Fukunaga clapped.

“Don’t ‘see’ me!” Kuroo was the first to come back to his senses in the form of words. “What the hell was that?!”

“It was a serve.”

“No, that was an attempted murder!”

“It went in a straight line…” Yaku was practically shivering at what he had just witnessed. “Like, a completely straight line. And it looked like it could keep going…”

“That was so cool!” Inuoka exclaimed while Shibayama looked like he had just seen a ghost. “It just went ‘doom’ and then ‘whoosh’ and ‘ba-zoom!’”

“How did you do that?” Lev asked, eyes glimmering with excitement despite how his life was moments away from peril literally a few seconds ago. “Can you teach me?”

“Me too!” Yamamoto threw his hand in the air.

“Don’t even think about it,” Yaku chided.

“I don’t know why, but whenever I hit the ball it always does that.” Ichika cupped her cheek bashfully. “I can never seem to get it to arch unless I do a two-handed throw.”

“I didn’t even think that was possible,” Kai blinked.

“Obviously, it’s not,” Kenma’s shoulders slumped. He was surprised for sure, but he totally understood why Ichika said she can’t ‘play volleyball.’

A serve like that would just go straight into the net.

Ichika tapped her chin in thought. “Maybe it’s because I used to be part of the Kyudo Club?”

“Kyudo Club?” Yamamoto’s eyes lit up at that new piece of information. “Our Ichika-san was… part of the Kyudo Club?” His imagination began to run wild. Ichika, wearing the traditional, white kyudogi and black hakama, drawing the bow back in her usual serene but concentrated expression...

Suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven. 

“That makes absolutely no sense!” Kuroo’s brain was practically short-circuiting from this absurdity. “What would that have to do with how you’re literally sending the ball in a straight line around the earth?!”

“Maybe I’m just used to propelling things in a straight line?”

“Impossible!”

“Either way.” With a compliant smile, Ichika turned on her heel and made her way towards the bench where Nekomata waited alongside a flabbergasted Naoi. “Shouldn’t we continue with the tournament, grandfather? I believe they’ve had a long enough break.”

“Hey, don’t try and run!”

**On April 20th, 2012, the Nekoma High Cats Volley Tournament concluded.**

**First-Place: Shibayama Yuki - 287 points** **  
** **Second-Place: Teshiro Tamahiko - 261 points** ****  
**Third-Place: Inuoka So - 213 points** **  
** **Fourth-Place: Haiba Lev - 159 points**


	4. The Crows bear an Invitation from Miyagi!!

**Carefully lowering** the raw salmon onto the frying pan, Ichika revelled in the crisp sizzling noises that bounced out as the fish made contact with the oil. Leaving that to cook for a few minutes, she shifted her attention towards the cucumbers, freshly peeled and waiting. Nekomata had mentioned in passing that he preferred his cucumbers cut as thinly as possible, so she did her best to cater towards his preferences for Sunday night’s dinner.

Her grandfather was currently out, off to the local pet store to buy food for Aki. Not saying he was a glutton, but the black cat could certainly eat when it came to it.

However, just when she was about to pick up the knife, a digital ringing of their landline echoed out from the hallway. Ichika raised an eyebrow. Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried out of the kitchen and towards the front hall just up the steps of the mudroom, where the telephone sat.

The phone blared out once more before Ichika finally reached it. Pulling the handset to her ear, she said in an even tone: “Good evening, this is the Nekomata household. Who is this?”

“H-Hello!” The voice on the opposite end was nervous, sounding like a young man in his early-to-mid-thirties. “This is Takeda Ittetsu with Karasuno High School from the Miyagi Prefecture. I believe I’ve mentioned I’d call you again to ask about the practice match during Golden Week.”

Ichika blinked.

“Huh?”

**_***_ **

“Mornin’,” Kuroo waved at the sight of the blonde standing by _The City_ Bakery.

“Good Morning…”

Kenma watched as their manager moved away from the bakery’s glass windows to meet them at the crosswalk. Something seemed to be bothering her, but he didn’t make any effort to mention it.

Kuroo, on the other hand, addressed it head-on as they moved to cross the street.

“Hey, something wrong?”

“Sorry, is it obvious?” Ichika cast a wry smile in the dark-haired boy’s direction. “It’s just… we received a strange phone call last night.”

“Strange phone call?” Kuroo recited back. “Hey, Shira-chan. If they’re telling you that you won some prize you never signed up for, and they need your bank information to cash-in the cheque, I really hope you didn’t give it to them. Us city folks like to use those techniques to trick poor country girls like you-”

“I can tell if things are a scam, thank you very much,” Ichika replied firmly. “Besides, between the two of us, I’m sure you’re far more likely to be the victim of some phishing scheme.”

“Oh? You sure about that?”

“Of course.”

Kenma wanted to bury his head in the sand. For the past week and a half, he’s done nothing but listen to these two banter over absolutely nothing yet everything at the same time as they walked to school and back again. Sure, he had his video games. But he could only set the volume so loud as they crossed roads or sat in the subway.

“But it wasn’t those kinds of phone calls,” Thankfully, Ichika had some self-awareness this time around. Or maybe because whatever on her mind was just irking her that much. “They asked for Coach Nekomata specifically,” she reached into her bag to grab her wallet and subway pass as they strolled up to the fare scanner. “Have either of you ever heard of Karasuno High School?”

“Karasuno?” Kuroo rubbed his chin in thought. “Where is that?”

“The Miyagi Prefecture.”

“It sounds familiar,” he hummed, thinking on it a little more when a memory resurfaced in his mind. “Wait. Isn’t that the school related to the Battle of the Garbage Dump?”

Kenma nodded. “I think so.”

Ichika cocked her head to the side. It was hard to imagine that polite man from last night’s phone call being involved in some brawl over a garbage dump.

“Um, excuse me,” she raised her hand. “I feel like I’m missing some context here.”

“Hold on,” Kuroo glanced back at her as they descended the stairs to the train platforms. “Are you telling me your grandpa _never_ talked about the Battle of the Garbage Dump? Not even once?”

Ichika shook her head.

“Seriously?” Kuroo was in disbelief. “Didn’t he reminisce about the ‘good ol’ days,’ like even during retirement?”

Ichika thought for a moment. “Well, he might have mentioned it to my mom or grandmother,” she said. “But I’ve personally only known him for about half-a-year, so I wouldn’t know.”

Her response would’ve been a rather satisfactory answer in itself, but this time, something else entirely caught Kuroo’s attention.

“Wait, half-a-year?!”

That also seemed to pique Kenma’s curiosity as he looked over.

“Huh? Oh, yes,” Ichika nodded, seemingly taken off guard by his immense confusion. “I first met my grandfather six months ago, when he stayed with me in Nanto.”

Kuroo pressed his lips together.

About a year ago, when he was still a second-year, and Kenma first joined the club, Nekomata was already the Nekoma Volleyball team’s head coach. He had just come out of retirement two years ago, much to Kuroo’s younger self’s delight. However, half-way through the school year, around October, Nekomata suddenly took a break from coaching and left things in the hands of Naoi. No one saw him for a while after that, and rumours eventually began to sprout regarding what happened to the old volleyball coach.

Some say he went back into retirement; perhaps he found the new team members too amateurish for his liking. Others say he might’ve gotten into an accident, one that left him bed-bound and thus unable to return to his job as head coach.

When Naoi was asked about Nekomata’s sudden disappearance, he eventually came clean, explaining to the boys that the old coach decided to take time and mourn for his late wife, who had passed away due to natural causes.

That wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.

Back when Kuroo was a first-year, Nekomata’s wife, Nekomata Minori, would often pay visits to the club. She’d come bearing fresh fruit and handmade treats, helping them pass out water and towels just like a manager would. She was very different from Kuroo’s wise and soft-spoken grandmother. Nekomata Minori was confident and rather hard-headed despite her age. She always said whatever was on her mind, giving loud yet practical advice to each of the boys whenever they needed it. But in his second year, after Kenma joined the club, her visits became less and less frequent. Kuroo noticed that she seemed to slim down a little more every time he saw her. Her previously glowing skin grew lifeless and dull, and her bold and strong figure slowly shrivelled and hunched.

Then one day, her visits stopped completely.

Either way, Kuroo was relieved to hear that his coach had simply decided to take time off to mourn with his family in Nanto.

“Well.” Setting aside that train of thought, for now, Kuroo cleared his throat. “Karasuno’s former coach apparently had a big rivalry with your grandpa, so they played against each other a lot back in the day.”

“Really?”

Kuroo nodded. “They’d have some pretty intense matches. So much so, people actually gave it a nickname.”

“Cats vs Crows: Battle of the Garbage Dump,” Kenma said, shifting his attention back to the game. “It’s kinda weird if you ask me.”

“But apparently, despite the hundreds of practice matches they played, they never got to face each other in an actual tournament. After a while, their coach collapsed, and their team just wasn’t as good as they were before.” Kuroo peered down the darkened tunnel to see the two beaming headlights of the subway approach. “So? Why’d you ask about them?”

“Well…” As the female announcer’s voice filled the train platform, Ichika tilted her head to the side. “I think they invited us to a practice match.”

The train zipped by, the sound of its brakes screeching echoed the underground.

“Wait, seriously?!” Kuroo’s eyes were wide.

“Their teacher advisor called our landline last night, and he’s really pushing to arrange one during Golden Week.”

“Didn’t they ask for one last year too?” Kenma pointed out.

“Yeah, but I think Coach Nekomata just flat out said no.”

“Oh. From the sounds of it, he’s been bugging my grandfather for a while now,” Ichika added. “He even threatened to come visit us in person.”

Kuroo deadpanned as they stepped into the subway cart. “Well, isn’t he a persistent guy?”

“I told grandfather about the call,” Ichika said as she grabbed onto the straphanger above. “But he just said ‘ok’ and that ‘he’ll consider it.’”

“That’s a shame,” Kuroo hummed. “I kinda wanna try playing them. Just for old time’s sake.”

**_***_ **

“Agh, I’m bored,” Sora groaned as she stuffed the last of her snack bar-bought lunch into her mouth. “The beginning of the school year is always so boring. There are no fun school events, everyone in class is still in that weird adjusting period, and the snack bar is still trying to finish their stock from last year.”

“Is that so?” Ichika picked up a piece of fish from her lunchbox - leftovers from last night’s dinner. “Are you ready for today’s quiz?”

“Geh!” Sora’s shoulders tensed at the reminder, but she hurried to recompose herself. “I mean, yeah, of course,” she cleared her throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Really?” Ichika mused once she swallowed the fish. “Then could you tell me what subject is the quiz in?”

Sora made a string of incomprehensible noises. “You don’t know?” She finally asked.

“I know, but I’m asking if you know.”

Sneaking a quick glance at the blackboard, where the student on duty had diligently written out the class schedule, Sora made a desperate deduction. “English, right? Enomoto-sensei won’t know what hit her.”

“Mm,” Ichika hummed, picking up another piece of fish. “Sorry to break it to you, Sora. But that was a trick question,” she gave the brunette a small smile. “We don’t have a quiz today. The closest quiz we have is this Friday in traditional literature.”

It took Sora a moment to process what just happened. “You tricked me!” She exclaimed, slamming both fists on her desk without any regard for how much attention they’d draw from their classmates. “That was so mean!”

“It wouldn’t be if you had just paid attention in class.”

A sharp voice suddenly cut through their conversation, followed by a looming presence that crept up just behind Sora. The brunette craned her neck backwards, coming face to face with quite the studious-looking girl. She had short, black-haired that reached just past her shoulders and an emerald green headband that held back all the wisps and flyaways. She stared down at Sora through stormy grey eyes, reflecting a sense of disappointment and annoyance Ichika had initially thought could only come from one’s parents.

“Horiuchi-san,” Ichika greeted the new addition with a polite nod. “Hello.”

“Geh! Chieko!” Sora’s face went pale.

“What do you mean ‘geh?’” Chieko pulled an empty chair towards Sora’s desk and set down her wrapped lunchbox.

“N-Nothing.”

“Are you done with student council duties?” Ichika asked.

The raven-haired girl nodded. “We finished earlier than expected today.”

Horiuchi Chieko - the class representative of Class 2-3 and the Treasurer of Nekoma High’s student council. For the two past weeks Ichika has been at the school, they’ve only interacted one-on-one a mere handful of times despite being the occasional lunchmates. Much like her appearance, She was a focused and disciplined student, a complete contrast to Sora’s unruly attitude. It was truly a mystery how the two became friends, but Ichika didn’t bother questioning it.

“Chiekoooo,” Sora whined. “Can’t you just _ask_ the student council to organize more events in the school year? Like we only have the cultural festival and the sports festival, it’s so boring.”

The short-haired girl sighed. “In case you forgot, we are here to _learn_. Not goof around-”

“Oh, Horiuchi!” Out of the corner of her eyes, Ichika spotted a few more figures waltz into the classroom. The person leading the group, and the one who called out to Chieko was none other than Tsuji Masumi.

According to Sora’s information, Tsuji was easily one of the most popular boys in the class. And it wasn’t difficult to see why. The brown-haired boy had a bright smile and friendly personality to match. Ichika herself had already received his help on multiple occasions as she attempted to engrain the school’s layout into her head. As if to add to that package, he was also part of the soccer club, one of their starting players, to be exact.

“Hanasaki, Shirazome,” Tsuji gave the two girls a brief nod as greeting. “Hey!”

“Hello.”

“Hey,” Sora leaned back in her seat. “What’s up?”

“I’m just here to ask Horiuchi about our request to increase the soccer club’s budget this year,” he said, nudging his chin towards the raven-haired girl. “How’d it go?”

“It went through,” Chieko said. “You can expect new equipment coming in about two weeks or so.”

“Awesome!” That seemingly permanent smile on Tsuji’s face only brightened. “Thanks, Horiuchi. The guys will be happy to hear about this.”

And with that, he was off. Back to rejoin his small cluster of friends comprised of other students from Class 2-3 who were also from the soccer club.

Watching them from her seat at Sora’s desk, Ichika grew curious. “Is our soccer team good?”

“They’re okay,” Sora shrugged. “They made it to Nationals a few years back, but soccer isn’t really what our school is known for,” she met her gaze. “That’s the baseball club’s job.”

“The baseball club?” Ichika cocked her head to the side.

“Mhm,” Sora rested an elbow on the backing of her chair. “Socially, they’re also probably the most popular boys in school.”

“But don’t let that fool you,” Chieko cut in as she opened her lunch box, revealing a relatively simple mix of rice, vegetable and tonkatsu. “They’re also some of the smartest kids in our school. Most of their third-year members are in Class 3-5.”

“Handsome with a brain,” Sora murmured, resting her chin on the base of her palm. “It’s like the complete package.”

Ichika hummed as she reached into her lunchbox for a piece of cucumber.

Weren’t Kuroo and Yaku also in Class 3-5 too?

**_***_ **

After another day of practice, Ichika made her way to the school’s communal laundry room to wash up the boys’ sweaty mesh vests - just another part of her managerial role in the club. Yaku used to handle this task because, according to him, apart from him and Kai, none of the other boys knew how to do their own laundry. Which, admittedly, was rather concerning in itself.

And as expected, Nekomata made no mentions of Karasuno or the possibility of a practice match during Golden Week.

Ichika couldn’t help but wonder the reason why her grandfather was so reluctant to arrange a practice match with his long-time rival’s team. Were they just not worth the time and effort anymore? Or was he just no longer interested? Despite being his granddaughter, Ichika had absolutely no idea what was going on in that old man’s head.

Setting down the basket of vests in front of a washing machine, Ichika headed towards the wall cabinets to grab the detergent, antiseptic and softener. It was as she filed through the various sized bottles, some half-filled and some empty, when the door opened behind her, catching her off-guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a gentle voice spoke. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here at this hour.”

Ichika turned, spotting a girl with warm chestnut-coloured hair tied into two fluffy braids that swept over either side of her shoulders. She was petite, around the same height if not smaller than Sora, with pearly white skin that made the natural pink flush in her cheeks stand out ever more slightly.

“No, it’s okay. This is a communal room after all,” Ichika managed to say, slightly taken aback by the stranger’s beauty.

The girl stepped forward, carrying a laundry basket similar to the one Ichika had. Setting it down on the ground, she peered into Ichika’s basket, eyes immediately lighting up with glee.

“Are you a manager too?” She asked, tucking a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Which team?”

“The boys’ volleyball team,” Ichika replied as she lugged down a bottle of detergent from the cabinets.

“Ah, so you’re the new manager I’ve heard so much about! Nekomata-sensei’s granddaughter, right?”

“Yes, that’s me,” as she began loading in the laundry, Ichika shot her a curious look. “Have you heard of me?”

“I have a few classmates in the volleyball club,” the stranger explained as she opened the lid to a separate laundry machine. “They’ve been talking non-stop about the troublesome first-years and their brand new manager,” she glanced over at her. “Shirazome Ichika-chan, right?”

“Mhm,” Pouring in the detergent, Ichika closed the lid and offered it to the stranger, who gave her a nod in thanks. Taking the chance, Ichika briefly peered into the girl’s washing machine, finding it to be occupied by uniforms in Nekoma High’s signature red and black colours. “Erm, and you are…?”

“Oh, I’m the manager of the boys’ baseball team,” the stranger said proudly. “By the way, my name is Hirayama Mizuki. I’m from Class 3-5.”

“I see,” Ichika smiled as she lowered her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Hirayama-san.”

“Same here,” Mizuki giggled as she began to measure the appropriate amount of detergent. “So, Ichika-chan, how are you finding your time as a manager?”

Ichika slowly turned her head. “Pardon?”

“I heard from Yaku-kun this is your first time stepping into the role of a team manager,” Mizuki said, reaching for the fabric softener that Ichika brought down for her. “I’ve been the baseball team’s manager ever since I was a first-year. If you need any advice,” she cast her a bright grin. “I’d be more than happy to help.”

Ichika blinked. Mizuki’s offer felt like someone bringing charcoal amidst a snowstorm, and for a moment, Ichika actually wondered if it was too good to be true. But after thinking about it, she gave the brown-haired girl a brief explanation of the situation. The call that reached the Nekomata residence the previous night. Nekoma and Karasuno’s rivalry history. And her grandfather’s apparent reluctance at the prospect of a Golden Week practice match.

“Don’t you think he’s afraid?” was Mizuki’s immediate response.

Ichika remained silent as if urging her to continue.

“I mean, I’d definitely be afraid to see the state my old rival is in,” Mizuki said. “Especially if the rumours of them going into a decline was true.”

“I guess so,” Ichika hummed.

Mizuki’s eyes lingered on the blonde before saying: “Why not just talk to him about it?”

“What?” Ichika’s eyes widened, watching as her upperclassman input the washing machine directions.

“Why don’t you try talking to your grandpa?” Mizuki reiterated her question.

“It’s not really my place to say anything,” Ichika pointed out, speaking as if the answer was obvious. “I’ve only been a manager for around two weeks. I’m still not familiar with how things work in volleyball-”

“Hold on just a second,” Mizuki held up a hand, interrupting the blonde mid-sentence. “What does this have to do with being a manager?”

Ichika blinked, a little confused by Mizuki’s apparent absent-mindedness. “Well, it’s something to do with the club, isn’t it?” she gave an awkward smile.

The baseball team manager seemed a little taken aback. “Ichika-chan, you’re worried about Nekomata-sensei,” she said. “That has nothing to do with the club or being a manager. You’re worried about him because you’re family.”

**_***_ **

Dinner was quiet for the most part. Other than the kibble in Aki’s metal bowl clicking around and the sound of chopsticks scraping against the bottom of porcelain bowls, it was a relatively quiet affair. Ichika couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like this, or was her desire to say something just driving her to notice things she usually wouldn’t otherwise. Because suddenly, even the sound of her own chewing was the loudest thing in existence.

“Is something on your mind?”

Ichika flinched. As expected, Nekomata was quick on the uptake.

In six short months, her grandfather had learned to get a better read on her than Ichika ever will of him. And that fact had only become even more apparent after what Mizuki said in the laundry room that afternoon.

Rubbing her thumb against the rim of her bowl, Ichika’s instinctive response was to immediately deny that notion. But as her gaze flickered up to meet her grandfather’s warm golden eyes, she held her tongue.

“A little…”

Nekomata’s posture straightened ever-so-slightly.

“It’s about that invitation from Karasuno,” taking his silence as a sign to continue, Ichika elaborated.

“What about it?” Nekomata took a bite from the daikon dish.

Ichika took a moment to compose her thoughts, something her previous therapist had specifically instructed her to do if she didn’t know what to say. “Grandfather, do you plan on going?”

Nekomata hummed. “Their advisor teacher is very enthusiastic about this whole practice match ordeal. In a way, it’s kinda stroking my enthusiasm.”

“Oh,” was Ichika’s only response. By the sound of it, her grandfather was already getting ready to drag the team on a trip to Miyagi next weekend. Figuring she didn’t need to say anything else, she simply peered into her half-empty bowl of rice.

“What do you think?”

“Huh?”

“What do you think, Ichika?” Nekomata asked again, picking up another piece of daikon radish and stuffing it in his mouth. “Do you think we should go?”

Ichika’s eyes shot up. “Can I say something?”

“Of course,” Nekomata almost laughed at how genuine her response came out to be. “I want to hear your opinion on this too.”

With her grip tightening around her chopsticks, Ichika pressed her lips together. She looked down at the green gingham pattern tablecloth, taking a deep breath. “I think we should go,” she said.

“Okay,” Nekomata mused. “Why do you think so?”

“W-Well, because it’s good practice for the team,” Ichika immediately reasoned. “To play against people from other prefectures. Perhaps we could run into something we’ve never seen before.”

“And?”

“And, well, I think the boys would look forward to it too. Kuro-san mentioned how he wants to try playing against them, just for old time sake. Oh, and,” another point struck her mind. “I’m sure you would look forward to it too, right, grandfather?”

Nekomata hummed.

“Kuro-san told me that you and their old coach were rivals, even back when you were still playing volleyball. Wouldn’t it be exciting to see how their team is doing now?”

Reaching for another piece of daikon, Nekomata nodded. “And?”

“And…?” Ichika was lost. What other answer could her grandfather be hoping for?

“What do _you_ want to do?”

There was that question again.

“I…” Rolling her chopsticks between her thumb, index and middle fingers, Ichika steadied herself. “I want to see them too.”

Nekomata kept his eyes glued to her but said nothing.

“I want to see the team you played against when you were younger,” Ichika said quietly but honestly. “I know they’re not the same anymore, but I’m still curious. Mom-” She hesitated, eyes dulling slightly. “She never really talked about you or grandmother, just that you teach volleyball. And I…” She briefly met his gaze before looking away. “I want to get to know you better.”

Finishing his bowl, Nekomata set his bowl down with a huff.

“I’m sorry if that sounds selfish…” Ichika murmured.

“Not at all,” Nekomata leaned back in his chair. “I actually had a talk with the vice-principal about this already. We leave May 3rd.”

Ichika blinked a few times. “Huh?”

“Naoi also managed to arrange a practice match with a different high school in the area,” Nekomata rubbed his chin in thought, continuing to speak as if nothing was wrong. “Tsukinokizawa, I think.”

“Wait! Hold on, please!” Ichika nearly lunged out of her seat.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“You…” It was difficult to hide the disbelief in her tone. “Did you already make plans to go?”

“Of course,” Nekomata grinned, the lines creasing around his eyes with great mischief. “I told you, didn’t I? Takeda-kun’s enthusiasm stroked mine.”

“But…but!”

“I never said I wasn’t gonna go,” Nekomata mused as he stood up.

Ichika sunk into her seat, watching in a mild daze as the small old man began collecting the empty dishes. She heaved a sigh. As she took a moment to recompose herself, a wry smile tugged at her lips.

“It’s mean to tease people, grandfather.”

Nekomata gave a hearty laugh at that. “Sorry, sorry,” he hummed, dropping the dishes into the sink before turning to face her. “But I’m pretty sure you do the same to your classmates, don’t you?”

“Oh my, do I now?” Ichika averted her eyes. “I don’t remember.”

Nekomata laughed again. “But, I’m glad you finally managed to express yourself,” his eyes crinkled warmly. Reaching a wrinkled hand forward, he gently patted the blonde on the head. “I’m proud of you, Ichika.”

Ichika’s eyes widened.

She wasn’t sure if she really deserved this, especially from her grandfather. But she lowered her head nevertheless. She wanted to relish in this nostalgic warmth for just a little while longer.

“Thank you.”

**_***_ **

“Woah!” Inuoka gasped in amazement as he stared up at the intricate designs on the Tokyo Station ceiling.

“Pick up your jaw, Inuoka,” Kuroo grinned. “You’ll catch a fly.”

“I can’t help it! This is the first time I’ve ever been on a bullet train,” the first-year said honestly.

“Wait, seriously?” Yamamoto leaned back with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve never been on one before?”

Inuoka shook his head. “Why? Have you?”

“Yeah, lots of times.”

“Hasn’t everyone?” Teshiro pointed out.

“I have,” Shibayama nodded in agreement.

“I honestly didn’t expect that from you though,” Yaku readjusted his bag over his shoulder. “It’d be more believable if Ichika said she’s never been on the bullet train before. Don’t you travel a lot?”

“Hear that, country girl?” Kuroo snickered.

“I had to take the bullet train when I moved here, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, but we usually take the bus,” Inuoka explained, still unable to find a single place to awe at. “My dad likes to watch the view of the countryside as we go.”

Yamamoto hummed. “Well, this’ll be the first time I’ve ever gone to the Miyagi Prefecture though,” he brought his hands behind his head. “I wonder what Karasuno’s like. The only Miyagi city I’ve heard of is Sendai.”

“Hey, you guys!” Naoi turned to look at the cluster of students dressed in Nekoma’s signature red jackets. “Stay together and walk properly. We’re in public.”

“Yes, sir!”

**On May 3rd, 2012, the Cats arrived in Miyagi.**


	5. The Cats wander Miyagi!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throughout this entire chapter, I was mentally questioning myself about what the hell I was writing... You guys will understand soon enough.
> 
> Enjoy some Nekoma team dynamic fluff :3

**Ichika stared** at her reflection in the window, not at all minding the passing views of the green fields and distant mountains. It's been long since they've ridden past the cityscape. The red Nekoma track jacket fit oddly well on her. Granted, Naoi _did_ have to get a men's extra small, but it wasn't just about the size. The fiery red made an excellent contrast against her ice blonde hair. Though she had to admit, she did look a little like the younger female version of Nekomata, without the golden eyes, of course.

Those striking, cat-like features ended at her mother, with Ichika instead inheriting her father's average brown eyes.

Ichika didn't really know how to describe them. Muddy was probably the first word that came to mind. While it was quite fitting for a simple girl like her, she remembered always being somewhat envious of her mother's glimmering gold ones. They shone as if the reflection of the sun itself was burrowed deep within, warm and inviting. They resembled the rolling wheat fields that covered the lower half of her village, as well as the ones that surrounded the steady farmhouses themselves.

Ichika's gaze flickered into a downcast, the reminder of how those eyes were now nowhere to be found crashing down upon her once again.

"Ichika?" Before that single thread of thought could unravel into a net of darkness, a gentle nudge on her arm had her glancing over, coming face to face with Kai, who sat on the outer seat from across the aisle.

He smiled, kind as always. "Are you okay? You zoned out."

Blinking, Ichika took a moment to bring her thoughts back to reality. "Oh, yes!" She hurried to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "Sorry about that."

"What were you thinking about that had you staring at the coaches like that?" Kuroo asked, leaning forward from the window seat beside Kai with a cheeky grin.

Ichika peered over her shoulder. She hadn't noticed, but both her grandfather and Coach Naoi were fast asleep despite the bullet train's high speed. Perhaps a result of their age. "No, I was just thinking about something else," she shook her head. "What were we talking about again?"

"It's about Lev," Inuoka reminded with a light-laugh, kneeling on his seat directly in front of Ichika's. "Don't you feel bad for him?"

"Inuoka, sit down." Yaku hissed from his spot between Kai and Kuroo. "And what's there to feel bad about? He had a family event, so he couldn't come. It's pretty self-explanatory."

"But he looked so upset about it," though no one could quite see him situated between Inuoka and Teshiro, Shibayama's voice could be heard over the soft whirring of the high-speed train. "He told us not to 'forget about him' and to 'bring him back souvenirs.'"

"What a drama queen," Yaku heaved a dramatic sigh. "We're going for practice matches, not to play around."

"Well, I wouldn't mind if we toured around Karasuno a bit," Teshiro piped up from the inner seat. "I heard Miyagi has some great food."

"Me too," Yamamoto chimed in, sitting in the seat before Kai's with his legs spilling over into the middle aisle. "My sister asked me to bring back some kinda souvenir, so I kinda wanna stop by a gift shop for that."

"You have a sister?" Ichika was surprised.

"Y-Yeah." Despite it already being four weeks into the new school year, Yamamoto seemed to still have trouble maintaining his composure whenever Ichika spoke to him. But the mention of his little sister seemed to quell his nerves a little. "She's three years younger than me. Her name is Akane."

"She's also the leader of our cheer squad," Yaku lightly kicked the back of Yamamoto's seat. "Always showing up at our matches with a giant megaphone."

"Sorry about that," the boy said, though he was unable to mask the apparent pride that shone through his expression as he bashfully scratched the back of his head.

"Ara," Ichika chuckled. "She sounds wonderful."

"Thank you very much," Yamamoto almost bowed his head out of his own awkwardness when a thought suddenly struck him. "W-What about you, Ichika-san?" He asked, nearly leaning out of his seat if not for the plastic armrest holding him back by the abdomen. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Me?" Ichika cocked her head to the side. "I'm an only child."

"Really? I really thought you'd have a younger sibling or two," Kuroo hummed. "Kinda like Kai and Yakkun."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The latter of the two raised an eyebrow.

"N-Nothing bad," the boy hurried to correct himself. "It's just the three of you really give off that 'older sibling' vibe, you know?"

"Well, you aren't wrong about that. I have two younger brothers." Folding his arms before his chest, Yaku leaned back in his seat. "And Kai, you have one too, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I also have an older sister. What about you, Inuoka?"

"I have two sisters," Inuoka replied, holding up the number two with his fingers. "They're twins, and they're both younger than me."

"Twins, huh? That sounds like a lot of work." Teshiro smiled wryly.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"An older brother and a younger sister," he said. "So the opposite of Kai-san."

"So you're a middle child," Ichika tapped a finger to her chin. "I can definitely see that. What about you, Shibayama-kun?"

"Me? I-"

"Oh, oh! Let me guess!" Before the boy could finish his sentence, Yamamoto interrupted with a drawn-out hum. "Do you have... an older sister?"

"No, a younger brother, actually," Shibayama laughed a little.

"Oh," Yamamoto's shoulders slumped.

Inuoka then turned to look across the aisle where the second and third years were sitting.

"What about Kenma-san, Fukunaga-san and Kuroo-san?" He asked. "Do you guys have any siblings?"

"One younger sister," Fukunaga said, briefly glancing up from the video game he's been watching over Kenma's shoulder.

"I'm an only child," the gamer boy shrugged, still focused on the game in his hands. "And Kuro has an older sister."

"Really?" Inuoka shot their team captain a surprised look, as if he wasn't expecting that.

Kuroo simply shrugged. "I haven't seen her in a while though, so I don't know if it really counts." He turned to look out the window, almost as if he didn't want to linger on the topic any longer. "Anyways, shouldn't there be something like a gift shop at the train station? We can stop by if you wanna pick something out for Akane-chan."

"Thank you very much!"

"And you better wake up the coaches, Shira-chan," Kuroo then added as he pressed his forehead against the chilled window, catching sight of their destination platform coming up in the distance. "We're almost there."

**_***_ **

"This is where we'll be staying for the weekend," Naoi told the group as they stood before a large map with the title 'Karasuno General Sports Park.' He pointed towards the long rectangular-shaped block labelled with the number ten. "We have the entire dormitory building to ourselves for the weekend. There is also a kitchen and cafeteria, so that's where we'll be eating together. As for our meal plans..." He glanced at Nekomata, looking slightly unsure.

"Ichika can handle it." In contrast to Naoi's hesitance, the older coach's response was crisp. "She's the one who does most of the cooking at our place, after all. By the way, she manages most of our household finances too," he said, throwing up a peace sign as if he were boasting about himself.

"I don't think that's something for you to be proud of," Naoi deadpanned before shifting his attention to the blonde standing beside her grandfather. "Are you sure you can do it, Ichika-chan? Feeding nine athletes is a lot more challenging than you think."

"Leave it to me," Ichika nodded. "I'll be sure to keep everything within budget too."

"If you need help with anything, I'd be happy to pitch in," Yaku said as he rested his hands on his hips. "I used to do most of the cooking during our training camps, so I know what it's like with these guys."

"Really? That'd be great," Pressing her hands together, a smile tugged at Ichika's lips.

"I can help too," Kai raised his hand. "I'm not nearly as good as Yaku in the kitchen, but I'm sure I'll be able to provide some assistance."

"Oh, same here!" Shibayama stood up a little straighter.

Sensing a prime opportunity to spend time with their precious manager, Yamamoto's hand also shot up. "Me too!" He shouted, perhaps a bit too excitedly. "Ichika-san, I can-"

"Denied." Yaku cut him off with an irritated sigh, causing Yamamoto to slump in defeat.

"A friendly tip," the libero leaned in to whisper. "As far as second and third-years go, don't let any of the other guys near a stove if you can help it. None of them can cook to save their lives."

"Is that so?" Ichika gave an acquiescent laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You _know_ we can hear you, right?" said Kuroo.

"We'll be using their volleyball court for practice," Naoi then cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention once again as he pointed at the large orange squad labelled six. "Karasuno will be joining us there on Sunday."

"What about Tsukinokizawa?"

"Our practice match with Tsukinokizawa will be held at their school gym tomorrow afternoon," he stood up a little straighter. "Well then, let's go put our stuff away at the dormitory and sort out our rooming situation. Our time with the volleyball gym starts in an hour."

"Yes sir!"

**_***_ **

The dormitory was a simple facility; a clean, two-story building with baths, washrooms, kitchen and dining hall on the first floor, and three tatami rooms on the second.

"You can sleep wherever you want, Ichika-chan," Naoi told the blonde once he finished settling the boys into the largest room of the three, where they would all be sleeping together for the sake of team bonding. "There's a spare room if you don't feel like sleep with the boys."

Yamamoto gulped at the thought.

"Nine boys in one room is more than enough," Ichika responded with a polite smile. "I'll take the spare."

Training camp practice was the same as usual practice, albeit extending later into the night. And by the time the boys were done, Ichika already had a large pot of curry and some side dishes prepared.

"Thank you for the food!"

"Curry has to be the highlight dish of every training camp," Inuoka mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"It's really good," Kai complimented her.

"I'm glad," Ichika chuckled, watching as the boys chowed down on her cooking. "The staff of the sports park was generous enough to set aside some groceries to help us along with our first night," she explained. "So I made do with what I could."

"It's really good!" Yamamoto shouted, tears brimming his eyes at the joy of tasting their manager's homecooked food. "It's really, really good, Ichika-san!"

"It has a really refreshing taste," Shibayama remarked.

The spoon lingered by Yaku's mouth for a moment. "Is this yogurt?"

"Yes!" Ichika nodded excitedly. "Yogurt helps to add more depth to the flavour and makes the sauce a little smoother. It can also help to balance out the bitterness of the curry blocks, freshening it up and making it perfect for summertime."

"I see," the third-year hummed. "Have you ever tried adding bananas to your curry?"

"Bananas?"

"Apples are a pretty well-known addition to curries, but not as many people know about bananas. They can add a super velvety texture to the sauce, especially if you put them on top of hot curry and let them melt."

"Really? I'll have to try that next time then!"

Kuroo couldn't help but laugh at the two exchanging culinary tips like two old ladies at a grocery store. His gaze then flickered to the side for a moment, surprised to find Kenma, of all people, quietly spooning the freshly made curry into his mouth with little fuss. His eyes widened.

Maybe this was a good thing after all.

After dinner and a group effort in cleaning up, Ichika was the first to be given time to use the baths. She quickly washed herself up and then headed to the boy's room to tell the third-year it was their turn. Finally, she settled down in the first-floor common room with a folder, pen and extra paper.

"Hm?" Once they've finished their baths, the third-years left the bathroom only to spot their manager on their way to the stairs. "What are you doing?" Kuroo asked.

Ichika blinked. She stared directly at the dark-haired boy that stood in the doorway beside Yaku and Kai. His hair was weighed downwards, fluffing over the rounds of his head like a pillow. Her eyes crinkled.

"Who are you?"

Kai let out a small laugh, and Yaku snickered into his palm.

There was a twitch at Kuroo's lips."Kuroo Tetsurou," he strode into the room. "I'm hurt, Shira-chan. To think you'd only recognize me by my hair. Did our friendship mean absolutely nothing to you?"

"Ara, that's not it. The Kuro-san I know is just a little taller than you, that's all." she covered her mouth, feigning surprise.

Kuroo met her gaze with a playful smirk. "You're cruel."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She then slid a piece of paper towards him. "I'm budgeting our food allowance," she explained. "We can't rely on the kindness of the park staff all weekend. We have enough supplies for breakfast tomorrow, but I'd like to start planning ahead for lunch and dinner too."

"What do you have planned?" Kai followed in, slightly curious. "Sukiyaki, Nishime, Soba, Nabe," he peered around Kuroo, reading down the list. "These are all pretty good ideas."

"Do you know how to cook all these?" Kuroo leaned down with his towel still dangling over his shoulder. Ichika could smell the park-provided shampoo and soap off of him.

"Of course," she shifted her attention back to the list. "They're all pretty basic dishes to make, you know?"

"He wouldn't know," Yaku rested an elbow against Kuroo's shoulder. "This guy's cooking is honestly a big hit or miss. It's either really good or really really bad."

"Harsh words, Yakkun," Kuroo shot him a sly look. "I'd like to think I'm an experimentalist when it comes to flavours."

"If I remember correctly," Kai mused. "You mistook vinegar for water in home economics last year, didn't you?"

"Ah..." Kuroo averted his eyes.

"These recipes are good and all, but isn't our budget a little tight for it?" Bringing the conversation back on track, Yaku skimmed through the stapled papers resting atop of Ichika's folder.

"That's what I'm worried about," Ichika sighed. "If possible, I'd also like to get some fish for breakfast. But I doubt we'd have enough for it."

"Instead of eastern style, why don't you give western-style dishes a shot?" Kai suggested. "Those are easier to make in larger quantities, and they tend to be cheaper too."

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Yaku's eyes brightened. "Scrambled eggs, maybe?"

"Hold it right there," Kuroo stood up straight and stared the brown-haired boy directly in the eye. "Why would we go for a western-style breakfast? Eastern is clearly more nutritious."

"Well, if you know how to make it properly, western breakfast can be nutritious in its own way," Yaku shot back, eyes narrowed. "Besides, eastern breakfast can be such a pain to make. Do you wanna shove all that work on Ichika?"

"I can help, obviously," Kuroo patted his chest in confidence.

"Come back when you stop mixing up the sugar and salt."

"What's going on?" A foreign voice piped in, causing both Kai and Ichika to turn towards the archway to find their club's first and second-years. Kenma stood, holding his towel and change of clothes in one hand while the other simply dangled at his side.

"We're talking about what we want for breakfast," ignoring the two arguing beside him, Kai spoke. "What are you guys doing down here?"

"You guys were taking a while, so we came down to check," Kenma said, briefly glancing at Kuroo and Yaku, who seemed to have just resorted to just glaring at each other.

"Can't we just have curry for the rest of the weekend?" Inuoka cocked his head to the side.

"That's a little..." Shibayama laughed awkwardly.

"I'd like you guys to have a balanced diet," Ichika said with a wry smile. "You have two practice matches in one weekend. That's quite a lot on your bodies."

"Ichika-san!" Yamamoto was absolutely touched. "Thank you so much, our goddess!"

"No need to thank me." As per usual, Ichika just brushed his theatrics off with a simple response. "But the issue here isn't scrambled eggs or not. I asked the staff, and the grocery prices in Tokyo and Miyagi seem to be about the same."

"So you want to find a cheaper alternative?" Teshiro said.

Ichika nodded.

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone thought their options over.

"Well, we have some free time tomorrow morning," Shibayama pointed out. "Why don't we walk around and take a look then?"

"Morning...?" Yaku blinked.

"Morning?" Ichika's lips parted.

"The Morning Market!" They suddenly shouted in unison, startling everyone else.

"That's genius!" Yaku was practically glimmering. "It's early in the morning; it's cheaper than a regular grocery store-"

"-and it's fresh produce!" Ichika finished off, looking equally as excited. "It's perfect!"

"I think I heard some of the staff members talking about one nearby." Grabbing one of the many Karasuno City brochures lying on the common room table, Kai began flipping through it.

"Let's see," Kuroo leaned in closer. "You're right. There's one about fifteen minutes away."

"Perfect!" Standing up from her seat, Ichika began cleaning up her files and calculations. "I'll head over there first thing after breakfast and-" she froze, feeling several pairs of eyes glued to her. "Is something wrong?" She turned to face the boys.

"Ichika-san," Inuoka was the first to speak up after the brief silence. "Don't tell me you plan on going to the morning market by yourself?"

"W-Well, yeah." Taken off-guard by the obvious question, Ichika tilted her head to the side. "I'm not going to ask you guys to go get groceries with me during our only free time of the weekend."

Yaku almost laughed at her statement. "I don't know about everyone else, but _I_ definitely wanna go."

"Me too!" Inuoka beamed.

Fukunaga nodded in agreement.

"We can help carry the groceries!" Yamamoto was also quick to volunteer.

"It'll be a good chance to see what Karasuno has to offer," Kai raised his hand with his usual gentle smile.

"I heard Miyagi has some really good seafood," Teshiro bounced on his heels.

"Well, it is along the Pacific coastline," Shibayama pointed out eagerly. " They must get everything fresh from the ocean."

"If we don't have to go, I'll just stay-mmph!" Kenma was about to say something, only for Kuroo to immediately cover his mouth over.

"Kenma said he'll go too!" Kuroo announced, ignoring the glare of irritation from the team's setter.

It took Ichika a second to process all the excited babbling that was taking place in the room. But soon, her lips quirked upwards, and she broke into a laugh.

"Alright, alright," she brushed a few strands of her damp hair back, trying her best to contain her laughter. "Let's head out tomorrow after breakfast."

**_***_ **

The morning market was busy, as expected.

Several dozen stands were set up along the street, creating a splash colour of umbrellas and shade sails. Bowls, baskets, and crates of fresh fruits and vegetables were lined up either in front or behind the stalls, and the stands that sold meat and fish kept their stock upfront on chopping boards. There were also premade food and drinks mixed in, putting out dynamic and eye-catching signs to advertise their products. Different stall owners were hollering out their prices while their customers haggled for lower ones.

"Wow!" Yamamoto didn't know where to look.

"So much fresh produce..." Teshiro murmured.

"You'd never see a sight like this in Tokyo," Kai said to no one in particular.

Ichika glanced at the boys.

Kai was right. While Tokyo was bustling, a country city's morning market would always have a completely different atmosphere. One felt like you're merely brushing shoulders against strangers in an effort to charge towards your next destination, while the other felt like a community event where you know everyone and everyone knows you.

"Is there anything you want in particular?" Shibayama asked.

"Well," Ichika reached into the bag she brought, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "I have a pretty good idea what I'm gonna do for lunch and dinner for the next few days. Some of these things can only be found at a local grocery store, but we're here mainly for the fresh produce since they sell for a better price," she explained. "I'm looking for shiitake and enoki mushrooms, daikon, carrots, chives, lotus roots, both green and regular onions, beef, chicken, crab, shrimp and salmon." She then looked up at the boys. "If you find any of these things, let me know. Try and stick together, just so we don't get lost in the crowd. The cell service in Karasuno has been pretty bad, so phone calls aren't really a reliable option."

"Understood!"

The shopping itself went pretty smoothly. Everyone did their part in helping to find the ingredients that made up their meals in the upcoming days.

"You found the crab!" Ichika clapped her hands together, standing beside Fukunaga, who called her over once he found one of the items on their shopping list. "Excuse me, sir! Can I have two blue crabs please?"

"You got it!"

Watching as the man began fishing the two crabs out from their plastic buckets, Ichika then noticed Fukunaga in front of the squid stock.

"Do you like squid, Fukunaga-san?" She asked.

Fukunaga nodded, keeping his cat-like eyes glued to the fresh ingredient. "They Kraken me up."

Ichika blinked in surprise.

"Fukunaga-san, was that meant to be a joke?"

Turning his head a little to stare at her, Fukunaga nodded again.

After a second, Ichika let out a small chuckle, to which she was quick to cover her mouth.

Fukunaga cocked his head to the side. It didn't feel like she was laughing at his joke.

"Sorry, sorry." Picking up on his confusion, Ichika began to explain. "I thought you were just a quiet person, so I didn't expect you to make a joke." She then reached over, resting her hand on the boy's head with a gentle weight. "Squid isn't really in our budget for the weekend, but I'll make you some when we get back to Tokyo, okay?"

Fukunaga stayed still for a moment before nodding.

"Here you go, girlie!" The stand owner handed Ichika her order, now properly packaged in a double layer plastic bag.

"Thank you very much!" Standing up straight, Ichika took the plastic bag from the man and placed it into the recyclable one she kept hooked over one shoulder.

After a little more wandering around, the Nekoma High Volleyball Club then came across something strange.

"What is this?" Yamamoto cocked his head to the side, staring at a small stand mixed among the various other ones. However, unlike the others, there was no one operating the station. There were no signs, no chalkboards and no instructions. Just a simple wooden stand covered over with a white table cloth and several dozen muffin cups filled with what looked like a mochi.

"Free samples, maybe?" Teshiro wondered out loud. "They look like green tea mochis."

Inuoka leaned in, sniffing the dessert. "They don't _smell_ like green tea though."

"What are you? A dog?" Kuroo deadpanned.

"Whatever it is, leave it be," Yaku instructed, readjusting his grip on the paper bag of vegetables he kept in his arms. "We have everything we need, so we should start heading back-"

"Please wait, Yaku-san," Ichika suddenly said, taking a step closer to the stand. She reached down, scooping up one of the muffin cups before turning around with her brown eyes practically glimmering. "I'm going to try one!"

"Hah?"

"Are you serious, Ichika-san?" Yamamoto began to panic. "We have no idea what this is!"

"All the more reason to."

"No, I don't really think that's a good enough reason."

"Yamamoto-san, you don't understand," Ichika's expression grew serious. "The mystery of not knowing what you're eating just makes this all the more thrilling-"

"I'm not looking for thrills from what I _eat_!"

"Now, now." Setting down the packet of salmon he kept hoisted over his shoulder, Kuroo also reached for the mystery dessert. "Let's give it a shot. Can't let our manager go on this adventure by herself, can we?" He grabbed another. "You want one, Kenma?"

"No thanks," the setter averted his eyes. He fidgetted with the straps of his backpack, which contained most of his volleyball gear.

He shouldn't have brought it out.

But he really didn't want to repack later either.

"I'll have one please!" Inuoka told his captain, receiving the muffin cup with both hands.

Kai tilted his head a little. "I think I've seen those somewhere before," he muttered to no one in particular before pulling out the rolled-up Karasuno City brochure they used to navigate to the market.

"I guess I'll try one," Teshiro murmured.

"T-Then, me too!" Shibayama raised his hand, not wanting to be left out.

To everyone's surprise, Fukunaga also grabbed one.

Watching as more of his teammates reached for the mysterious food, Yamamoto ruffled his hair. "Well, since everyone else is doing it," he stomped up to the stand. "I guess I'll try one too."

Yaku sighed. "You guys know we have a practice match later, right? The coaches will get mad if you guys all got stomachaches from eating some weird free sample off the street."

"Relax, Yakkun," Kuroo hummed. "This isn't Tokyo. None of these country folk are gonna be cunning enough to set out stomach poison for random people to eat."

"They wouldn't do that in Tokyo either," Yaku retorted.

"Well, then let's give this mystery dessert a shot," Ichika cleared her throat. "3... 2... 1."

On the count of one, all of those who grabbed a dessert stuffed the mochi into their mouth. After a few rounds of chewing, the response that came back was a mixed bag.

"What is this?!" Yamamoto immediately gagged, while Inuoka beside him began coughing. "It tastes so weird!"

Teshiro's face contorted a little as he swallowed the dessert.

"Kuro?" Kenma raised an eyebrow, watching as his childhood friend silently made his way to a trash can, throwing away the paper muffin cup.

"I-It's okay..." He said, though his darkened face and forced smile said otherwise. "Just, maybe not my cup of tea."

"It's so good~!" Ichika cupped her cheek. "It has a mildly sweet filling and a simple mochi cake outer coat," she sighed in delight.

Fukunaga nodded in agreement. "It's good."

"Is this edamame?" Shibayama asked as he continued chewing, seeming quite indifferent to this new taste.

"It is," Kai confirmed as he skimmed the text of the rolled-up brochures. "Apparently, it's called _zunda-mochi_. And it couples boiled mochi and with a sweetened paste made of mashed edamame beans."

"Edamame beans?!" Kuroo raised an eyebrow, now unable to hide the disgust on his face. "Why would you make _that_ into mochi?!"

"That's right!" Yamamoto exclaimed. "Edamame is fine on its own! Why would you make a salty tasting thing sweet?!"

"Well, those three seem to eat it just fine," Yaku pointed towards Ichika, Fukunaga and Shibayama, barely being able to hold back a laugh.

"Doesn't matter!" Kuroo's lips screwed to the side as if he was a pouting child. "Edamame is better by itself!"

"Justice for edamame!" Yamamoto cheered on.

**_***_ **

"Hey, where's Kenma-san?"

"Huh?"

Shibayama's question came like a dowse of cold water. A chilling realization to the group. Fighting their way out of the morning market against the incoming flow of people was already difficult enough. But now they've lost possibly the worst person to lose in the entire team.

Not only was Kenma one of the smaller boys on the team, but he was also the one with the least social skills. Unless he was possessed by an other-worldly spirit, the likelihood of him actively reaching out to strangers to ask for directions would be close to zero. Knowing him, he'd probably just sit down somewhere quiet and go on his phone until help arrives.

"The last time I remember seeing him was at the entrance of the morning market," Kai recalled. "He was mumbling about how bad the cell reception was in Miyagi."

Kuroo sighed. "I guess he got swept up in the crowd," he said as he awkwardly ruffled his hair. "You guys head back first. I'll go look for him-"

"I'll go too," Ichika interrupted, already passing the reusable shopping bag for Inuoka to hold.

"Wait, Shira-chan, you don't need to-"

"Do you remember how to get back to the dormitories?" Ichika looked over with a closed-eyed smile, though her tone was more accusatory than anything.

"Ah... No," Kuroo averted his eyes guiltily.

"Are you sure?" Yaku asked nervously. "I can always go instead."

"It's okay," Ichika shook her head. "It's partly my fault Kozume-san got lost anyway. I should've kept a better eye on him."

"It's not your fault, Ichika-san!" Yamamoto was quick to protest. "It's Kenma's fault for getting caught in the crowd."

"It's not really his fault if he couldn't help it, isn't it?" Ichika pointed out with a wry laugh.

After handing Teshiro his package of groceries, Kuroo then called out to her: "Alright, Shira-chan. Let's go!"

"We'll be back soon."

With that, Ichika then hurried to jog after Kuroo, who already began backtracking their steps from the bustling morning market.

As the birds flew overhead and the two of them settled into a walking pace, Kuroo glanced down at the blonde. He was honestly somewhat skeptical. "Are you sure you remember the way back?"

"Of course," Ichika assured, keeping an eye out for the red Nekoma jacket among the clusters of green, brown and grey. "If I'm being honest, I would prefer if I just came out looking for him myself. Don't want two members of our club getting lost in one day."

Kuroo's brows furrowed. "Shira-chan-"

"But I knew there was no way I could get you to sit tight," before he could fully voice his thoughts, Ichika immediately interrupted as she peered over her shoulder. "He's your precious friend, right?"

The volleyball captain's eyes widened for a split second before softening.

"Yeah."

For a little while, the two of them continued to wander in comfortable silence. Occasionally, one of them would stop to investigate the few backstreets and alleyways within the rural streets, but nothing came of it. Kenma was still nowhere to be found.

In an effort to make some small talk, Kuroo spoke again.

"Did you have fun at the morning market? You and Yakkun both looked so excited to go this morning."

"Did we?" Ichika chuckled. "Of course I had fun. They had a wider variety of seafood than I expected. I guess it pays off being right next to the ocean."

"Isn't Toyama near an ocean too?"

"It is, but Nanto city isn't anywhere near the ocean," she explained. "Besides, I just lived in one of the smaller villages that happened to fall into the Nanto city perimeter. It would honestly be more accurate to say I'm from Toga village if anything."

"Toga village?" He raised an eyebrow. "Never heard of it."

"I'd be surprised if you had," Ichika cast him a wry smile. "There are only about a thousand people living there. Everyone pretty much knew everyone."

"What's it like?"

"It snowed a lot, especially during the winters. Our yearly average snowfall accumulates to about three to four meters-"

Kuroo barely stifled a laugh at that comment. "That's a lot taller than you."

"That's taller than you too, Kuro-san," Ichika pointed out with an exasperated sigh. "That's taller than anyone."

"Still, it's pretty funny imagining you being buried in nothing but snow the moment you leave the house," Kuroo snickered into his hand for a little longer. "Do you miss that place?"

Ichika flinched, a flash of gold immediately crossing her mind.

"A little," she said after a moment of thought. "But as much as I love that place, Tokyo is now my new home. It's not a small village in the mountains, but it has its own urban charms."

Kuroo huffed. "You're not wrong."

Ichika looked over. "What do you mean?"

"You know I moved to Tokyo when I was seven, right?"

She nodded, briefly recalling her conversation with Sora.

"Before that, I lived in Kyoto," Kuroo recounted, craning his neck a little to stare up at the fluffy clouds that continued to roll by like a never-ending wrap of washi tape. "It's not a tiny village like yours, but it's a lot less urban than Tokyo. When I first moved there I was honestly kinda overwhelmed; there were hoards of people and crazy tall buildings. My grandma and I got lost pretty every time we went out."

"Ara, and you make fun of _me_ for not knowing my way around?"

Kuroo met her amused expression with a snarky smile. "I do it cause I know what it's like."

"Yes, yes," Ichika's eyes crinkled, though she made no effort to look away.

Kuroo seemed to pick up on this.

"Something wrong? You keep staring at me," His lips then quirked upwards. "I'm getting embarrassed," he pretended to shy away like a blushing maiden.

Ichika promptly ignored his antics. "Your gold eyes," she murmured in a daze, "they're really pretty."

Kuroo was taken off-guard by her comment. But soon, a playful grin spread across his cheeks. "What's this, Shira-chan?" He hummed. "Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"No way," Ichika's response was quick, casting him a knowing smile before turning to look directly ahead. "I'm just a little jealous, that's all."

"Of what?" Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "My eyes?"

"My grandfather has gold eyes." Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Ichika's expression grew wistful. "... my mom too."

"Well, that's just how genetics work."

"I know," she chuckled. "Sorry, I guess it's kind of childish to complain about something I can't control." There was a brief silence as her cheeks fell. "But to me, these eyes really do feel like a curse."

The clouds overhead shifted over, blocking out the sunlight as Kuroo stopped in his tracks. "I like your eyes though," he said.

"Huh?" Ichika glanced over her shoulder.

"Besides, you know around 70% of the people in this world have brown eyes, right?" He pointed out with a wry smile. "Are you call their eyes curses too?"

"T-That's not what I meant," Ichika waved her hands, hurrying to correct herself. "But if it's 70%, there isn't anything special about them either, right? They're just the normal majority."

Reaching a hand up, Kuroo ruffled his hair. "I don't really think being apart of the normal majority is a bad thing though," he said. "Besides, even if they're the same colour, different people's eyes can still _feel_ different, you know?"

"What do you mean?" Ichika cocked her head to the side.

Kuroo rubbed his chin. "It's like what they say, 'the eyes are the window to the soul,'" he quoted proudly. "For example, both you and Hana-chan have brown eyes, but they have a different _feel_ to them. When you look Hana-chan directly in the eye, don't they give you that super energetic feeling? Like she's about to run you over with her personality?"

Ichika's gaze flickered upwards in thought.

"In comparison, your eyes are a lot calmer," Kuroo took her silence as a sign to continue. "They feel warmer, you know?"

"No, not at all," Ichika replied with a blank expression.

Kuroo's shoulders slumped. "Well, I guess since they're your eyes, you _wouldn't_ know," he murmured to no one in particular before an idea came to mind. He took a step closer to the blonde and cupped his large hands around her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him.

"Eh?" Ichika blinked. "K-Kuro-san?! What are you-"

"Hold still," he said, not particularly phased by how close they now were. "Since you can't see your own eyes, I'll tell you what I see in them."

"B-But still, you're too close-"

"Now, now, no need to get shy," he laughed a little. "Just hold still and give me a second."

At first, Ichika attempted to squirm her way out, but she eventually gave up and held still as told. She wondered how this scene would look to any bystander who was unfortunate enough to wander by. She pressed her lips together, suddenly extremely self-conscious of her own breathing patterns as she focused on inhaling and exhaling exclusively through her nose.

Kuroo took a long stare into Ichika's eyes. It's as he thought. Unlike Sora's eyes, which felt like a burst of energy, ready to topple you over with a stampede, Ichika's were much warmer. They were a little darker too, like the colour of the earth after it rains. They were soft yet unyielding, like the gentle side of mother nature, ready to draw you in, wrap you up, and protect you from the harshness of the outside world.

"Yep," he nodded with satisfaction. "Your eyes are really gentle."

"Is that all you have to say?" Ichika raised an eyebrow.

"Give me a break. Poetry isn't my strong suit," Kuroo shot back but gave it a try nonetheless. "I'd say they look like chocolate or dark coffee. Kinda gives you a warm fuzzy feeling."

A soft breeze blew by and the nearby trees rustled along with Ichika's hair. The clouds began to move as well, whisking to the side and unveiling a beam of light that shone down upon Karasuno City.

"Oh! They look good in the light too!" Kuroo's expression brightened along with the skies above. "It's like your eyes are holding the bits of sunlight they stole."

At that simple comment, Ichika's eyes grew wide, and all the heat rushed to her cheeks as if she's been purposefully holding it back ever since this little 'exercise' started. Her heartbeat quickened, and she balled her hands onto fists, trying to stop them from clamming up.

"Hm?" Kuroo seemed to notice these signs as well. "Your cheeks got hot all of a sudden, Shira-chan," he teased. "Don't tell me you just fell for me?"

That seemed to snap Ichika out of her little trance. She raised her foot and stomped down harshly on Kuroo's.

"Ow!" The dark-haired boy quickly pulled back, crouching down over his foot with a yelp. "That was mean!"

"Please be mindful of how you act in public, Kuro-san." Rather than apologizing, Ichika began reprimanding the team captain with a somewhat agitated smile. Her cheeks still felt hot to the touch, but at least Kuroo's hands weren't over them anymore. "If anyone saw that, they'd probably take it the wrong way."

"Ah..." It then struck Kuroo how wrong any bystander would've taken what he just pulled. "Sorry." He shifted his gaze guiltily.

Heaving a sigh, Ichika then turned away. She peered down at the concrete streets, taking a moment to herself. "But thank you," she murmured, causing Kuroo to perk up a little. Ichika glanced over her shoulder, eyes crinkling softly. "That made me feel a little better."

Kuroo blinked a few times, seemingly attempting to process what she said before chuckling to himself. "That's good," he stood up straight and began walking. "Come on, we gotta keep looking for our runaway setter."

"Of course," Ichika took a few brisk steps to catch up with him, continuing their search for Kenma. "I'll buy you some zunda-mochi as thanks later."

Kuroo jolted. "Please, anything but that."

**_***_ **

Kuroo and Ichika ended up finding Kenma not too far away from the entrance of the morning market. He was leaning against the outfield fencing of an empty baseball field with his backpack on the ground. Beside him stood a boy with ginger hair who was barely an inch taller than Ichika.

"Kenma!"

"Kozume-san!"

The two of them called out to the boy, seemingly interrupting Kenma's conversation with ginger.

"Oh, Kuro. Ichika-san." Kenma put his phone away and grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. "Bye," he mumbled to the boy next to him, who looked like he still had more to say while Kenma hurried towards the pair.

But he stopped short once he arrived before them, turning around to look back at the ginger, his bleach-blond hair fluttering slightly with his movements. "See you soon, Shoyo," he waved.

Ichika gave the stranger a grateful smile and nod, while Kuroo simply began walking.

"Don't go wandering off by yourself," Kuroo sighed. "We're strangers to this place, so you gotta be careful."

"Sorry."

"Now, now," Ichika hummed. "There were a lot of people there, so I'm sure he couldn't help it. All that matters is that he's okay."

"You pamper him too much," Kuroo deadpanned.

Ichika cupped a hand to her cheek. "Well, that's because Kozume-san is adorable."

**On May 4th, 2012, the Cats made a decision - that Miyagi was a strange place. (Also justice for edamame.)**


	6. Clash of Fate, Cats vs Crows!!

**“In two days,** we’re going to be having a showdown against our destined rivals - Karasuno High School.” Sitting cross-legged on the futon, Yamamoto cleared his throat. “Now the real question is, do they have a female manager or not? I bet one yakisoba bread that they don’t!”

“What?” Inuoka pursed his lips. “I’d honestly prefer if they did, so my bet is that they do,” he said honestly.

“Me too,” Shibayama nodded in agreement.

It was the evening of May 4th. After the morning market trip and successfully retrieving Kenma from god-knows-where he wandered off to, the team had a light lunch before heading off to their practice match against Tsukinokizawa.

Much to both Coach Nekomata and Naoi’s delight, the boys did exceptionally well. The final score being 2:0, with the sets as 25-21 and 25-13, respectively. As a reward, Ichika made a delicious pot of  _ Chankonabe _ , consisting of chicken, meatballs, mushrooms, an assortment of vegetables, and some udon. Apparently, she headed to the nearby grocery store while the boys were winding down after their practice match.

After the team’s usual clean-up routine, the manager took her turn in the bath while the boys talked upstairs in their room.

“Don’t be stupid!” Yamamoto snapped at the two first-years, who exchanged a look of confusion. “Why would you want that?! Don’t you want them to stare at  _ us _ in jealousy for having a female manager?”

“Uh…” Shibayama looked like he didn’t know what to say.

“Doesn’t matter!” Yamamoto screwed his lips to the side like a spoiled child. “We didn’t have a female manager for  _ years _ ! I wanna be on the receiving end of people’s envious looks for once.”

“Isn’t that a little mean?” Inuoka pointed out with a wry expression. “What if they had a really pretty manager, even prettier than Ichika-san?”

“Not possible!” Yamamoto shouted, glaring at the brown-haired boy as if he was personally offended. “The only way I’ll accept it is if their manager is as hairy and ugly as a gorilla! But on the teeny-tiny chance that they have a super hot, gorgeous supermodel of a manager-” he slammed his fist into his futon, suddenly growing teary-eyed, “I’ll never forgive them for the rest of my life!” He then jolted up, throwing the nearby window wide-open and began screaming into the night: “You better watch out, Karasuno! I’ll make you pay ten-fold!”

“Shut up, Yamamoto!” Kuroo snapped, momentarily looking up from a stack of papers.

“Hey, Kenma,” Ignoring his captain’s apparent annoyance, Yamamoto then turned to look at their setter. “What do you think?”

Kenma took a second to think, his finger hovering over his phone screen as he paused his game. “I don’t really care either way.”

Yamamoto clicked his tongue. “I figured you’d say that.”

“But,” Kenma unexpectedly continued to speak. “I’m kinda looking forward to it - our match against Karasuno.”

There was a brief silence as the three of them process through what the gamer had said.

“What?!” Yamamoto jumped back, the surprise apparent on his face. “Kenma, Mr. No-Enthusiasm-for-Anything himself is looking forward to a game?! Next thing you know, the sun’s gonna rise from the west tomorrow!!”

“Yamamoto,” Kuroo leaned back from his spot with a sinister smile. “If you still have this much energy left, do you want me giving you extra laps tomorrow?”

“S-Sorry!” Yamamoto shrieked.

“Excuse me,” there was a small knock at the door along with Ichika’s soft voice. “Kuro-san, you can use the bath now,” she said. “Yaku-san and Kai-san are already there.”

“Okay.” Setting aside the papers, Kuroo stood up. After gesturing to Yamamoto that he’d be keeping an ear open for his voice, he left the room, Ichika alongside him.

“What were you looking at?” She asked.

“Tomorrow’s schedule,” Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I just wanted to memorize it, so I can help make sure everything goes smoothly.”

Ichika took a moment longer to study his profile. “You know, every once in a while, you do something pretty captain-like.”

“That’s mean, Shira-chan.” Despite his words, the dark-haired boy was smiling. “What do you mean ‘every once in a while?’ I’m always captain-like.”

She chuckled. “You’re really looking forward to the practice match, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Kuroo sighed. He stopped at the corner of the staircase, staring back at Ichika, who stood before her room door. “It’s supposed to be a big deal. A Clash of Fate. Your grandpa’s been looking forward to it for a while.”

Ichika’s eyes flickered a little at the mention of Yasafumi.

“I guess so,” she hummed.

**_***_ **

On May 6th, 2012, at 1:30 p.m., in front of the Karasuno General Sports Park Volleyball Gymnasium. Two groups of footsteps approached at a synchronized yet thunderous rhythm. Like the sound of destiny’s ticking clock, slowly counting down as two clusters, distinctly separated by black and red track jackets, strolled up to the gymnasium entrance. They stopped at a distance away from each other, standing in an organized line as they took a moment to stare each other down.

“Bwah!” Someone from Karasuno’s line-up yelled out, only to cover his mouth.

“Greet your opponents!” Kuroo and another boy from the black-jacketed team shouted nearly at the exact same time.

Despite the minor tension that came with their collision of command, both teams bowed.

“Thank you for having us!”

Ichika counted up the water bottles in her carrier as she followed her team towards the gymnasium doors, only to notice a similar silhouette approach from the corner of her eye. She turned to look, only to freeze in her spot.

The girl that stood before her was slightly taller, with shoulder-length black hair and dark grey eyes framed by long lashes that held a slight curl to them. She wore a pair of metal-rimmed glasses and had a small mole at the corner of her mouth.

For a second, Ichika worried if her jaw began to hang open.

“Excuse me,” the girl with dark hair spoke. “I need to get through.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ichika averted her eyes, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious of her own appearance. This felt much like her encounter with Hirayama Mizuki - the manager of Nekoma High’s boy’s baseball team, where she was initially taken aback by the girl’s beauty. “Do you need help carrying that?” She quickly recomposed herself, gesturing the two bags slung over the stranger’s shoulder with her usual friendly smile.

“It’s alright,” she said in an even tone. “It’s light, so I don’t mind.”

“Right…” Feeling a little brushed off, Ichika shifted her body to the side to give the girl some walking space as they climbed the steps to the building. “Are you the team manager?” She asked, noticing the girl wearing the same black track jacket as the Karasuno boys.

She nodded.

“What’s your name?”

The girl cast Ichika an unreadable look, eyes flickering down momentarily. No doubt, she noticed the word ‘Nekoma’ printed onto the black water bottle carrier.

“Shimizu Kiyoko,” she muttered, voice barely audible.

“I see,” Ichika’s eyes crinkled. Her shyness was quite endearing. “Nice to meet you, Shimizu-san. My name is Shirazome Ichika.”

Kiyoko gave a subtle nod.

Just when the girls were about to reach the glass doors of the volleyball gym, a sudden set of hasty footsteps from behind had them dodging to either side of the door frame.

“I’ll make you regret this!” Yamamoto cried as he bolted past the managers and into the gym.

“Yamamoto-san?!” Ichika reached out her hand, attempting to stop the boy, only for him to slam the door to one of the changing rooms closed. “What happened?” She looked back at Inuoka and Shibayama for an explanation.

“Taketora-san bet us that Karasuno wouldn’t have a female manager,” the former of the two said with a wide grin.

“We just won ourselves some yakisoba bread,” Shibayama added proudly.

“I see. Good for you,” the blonde chuckled, only to notice Kiyoko’s aloof expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, Shimizu-san!” She hurried to explain her team’s behaviour. “Yamamoto-san is a good guy at heart; he just has some strange habits that rear its head around girls-”

“It’s okay,” Kiyoko shook her head. “I’m used to it.”

“I-I see…” Ichika blinked, surprised by the dark-haired girl’s good nature about the situation. Especially considering how most girls at school didn’t take kindly to Yamamoto’s... habits.

She couldn’t blame them though.

It’s really creepy when someone just  _ stares _ at you through a window.

“What’s with these shitty boys? He takes one look at our beautiful Kiyoko-san and just runs off. I better not catch him trying anything funny during the match.” Following the source of that new voice, Ichika turned to spot another boy who looked just like Yamamoto, except without the mohawk. He had a scowl on his face, stomping towards the door with his hands in his pockets while another boy with light grey hair followed behind.

“No one’s gonna do something like that,” he sighed. “And can you stop with the ‘ _ city _ boy’ thing? It’s embarrassing.”

Inuoka and Shibayama quickly moved to the side, allowing the bald boy to walk past. However, he stopped in his tracks when he noticed Ichika.

“Tanaka…” The grey-haired boy looked a little worried.

“I’m really sorry if Yamamoto-san was bothering you,” Despite his intimidating appearance, Ichika was quick to follow-up his gaze with an assuring smile. “But please don’t worry. He’s a good guy at heart, and he’d never do anything to make Shimizu-san uncomfortable.”

“O-Oh…” The boy hummed, slightly taken aback by her sincerity. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry about his behaviour,” Kiyoko apologized, watching from behind as the bald-headed boy, apparently named Tanaka, strolled into the gymnasium.

“Yeah, really,” the grey-haired boy gave a wry expression. “He has a tendency to get a little protective of our manager, but you handled him surprisingly well.”

“I can understand,” Ichika chuckled. “After all, Shimizu-san is such a beautiful girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys had to fight off admirers with a baton at every tournament you go to.”

Kiyoko averted her gaze at Ichika’s direct compliment. “T-Thank you…” She tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear.

_ She’s adorable. _ Ichika thought to herself.

**_***_ **

Inside the gym, things weren’t any less chaotic. While Fukunaga, Kai and a few others from Karasuno worked to set up the volleyball net, Kuroo and the Karasuno captain met at the centre of the court.

“We’re looking forward to our match today,” the messy-haired boy extended a hand with an indecipherable smile.

“We’re looking forward to it as well,” the Karasuno captain responded with an equally indecipherable expression.

Over with the coaches, Naoi approached Karasuno’s coach with a teasing grin.

“It’s been eight years, hasn’t it, Ukai? What the heck did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, shut up,” the Karasuno coach with bleached blond-hair retorted. “You haven’t changed a bit, Naoi.”

“Hey, Keishin,” Coach Nekomata approached the young men.

“It’s been a while, Nekomata-sensei,” the man named Ukai Keishin spun around to greet him.

“As per usual, you look just like your geezer of a grandpa,” Nekomata laughed.

“U-Um!” A young man dressed in a green track jacket stood up straighter at the mention of Coach Nekomata. “I-I’m Takeda, the one who called you. Thank you very much for agreeing to be here today.”

“Well, you barraged me with calls until I had no choice,” Nekomata rested a hand to his hip. “You even went as far as to get my home phone from the school district and call me there. I figured the only way to make it stop would be to come out here, right?”

“I-I’m sorry!” Takeda bowed his head low.

“I’m just kidding,” Nekomata quickly reassured him. “If anything, you should thank my granddaughter. She was the one who picked up and relayed that final phone call to me. You really surprised her, you know?”

“Yes,” Takeda bowed his head past a ninety-degree angle at the mention. “Please extend my thanks to her as well.”

“Well, you can thank her yourself later.”

“Huh?” Takeda and Ukai blinked, unaware of Ichika laying out the towels and water bottles in their peripheral background.

“Either way,” Nekomata continued, paying no mind to their confusion. “We’ve had a few good practice matches these last three days. We’re looking forward to today’s match too.”

At that, Takeda finally raised his head with a smile. “Yes, we’ll do our best,” he said.

Nekomata nodded. Turning on his heel, he began to make his way towards the bench on Nekoma’s side of the court. “Even though my opponent isn’t that geezer Ukai,” he peered over his shoulder, opening his eyes to reveal his golden, cat-like pupils. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Takeda and Coach Ukai stiffened at his ominous warning.

**_***_ **

“We’re like the blood in our veins. We must never stop flowing. Keep the oxygen moving, so that our ‘brain’ can operate at its best. Let’s do this!”

“Yeah!”

“Every time I hear that speech, it gets me so excited,” Ichika bounced her shoulders a little as if to relieve some built-up tension. “It really feels like our team of misfits can slow down and come together as one.”

“Really?” Kenma murmured as he walked past her. “I think they’re kinda embarrassing.”

“Who cares?” Yamamoto laughed. “They help set the mood.”

“They’re supposed to be thought-provoking,” Kai added.

As Naoi blew the whistle to signify the start of the match, Ichika noticed a small group of four congregating on the gymnasium’s bleachers.

“Um… Grandfather?” She whispered. “Is this meant to be an open practice?”

Perplexed by her question, Nekomata turned to look, only for his eyes to crinkle. “Well, this  _ is _ the first Battle of the Garbage Dump in years,” he said. “It’s not strange people wanna observe the outcome of the next generation.”

Ichika hummed. She knew this practice match meant a lot to both Karasuno and Nekoma as teams, but she wasn’t aware that it was enough to call back old alumnus to skip work and come watch a bunch of high schoolers play volleyball.

Nekomata seemed to pick up on her surprise and leaned in to whisper again. “You see that blond guy sitting on Karasuno’s bench?”

Following her grandfather’s directions, Ichika peeked over before nodding.

“He’s the grandson of that geezer Ukai I was telling you about.”

Ichika did a double-take, eyes round. “The one that you had a rivalry with since middle school?!” 

Nekomata nodded.

“He looks so much older than me…” Ichika unintentionally voiced her thoughts out loud, causing her grandfather to laugh a little.

“Minori and I didn’t settle down and start a family until we were in our early thirties,” he said, keeping his voice just low enough for Ichika to hear. “Keishin played on his grandpa’s team when he was in high school. I guess he’s taken up coaching too.”

“Was he good?” Ichika asked.

“He was a bench-warmer,” Nekomata said bluntly.

Ichika blinked. “What?” She managed to say, mentally questioning if she heard that correctly.

“Naoi was too, you know?” He then said, adding salt to the wound as Ichika’s mind began to short-circuit.

“It’s actually better for a coach to be a ‘bad’ player rather than a ‘gifted’ one,” Nekomata looked over, chuckling slightly at his granddaughter’s dazed expression. She looked as if her mind had been lost to another dimension entirely. “Being a bench-warmer means they get plenty of chances to see games up close,” he began to elaborate. “‘Gifted’ players might have no idea why ‘bad’ players can’t do what they can or how it feels to be on the sidelines, but ‘bad’ players understand exactly why a ‘bad’ player might have problems. They also understand what it feels like to be stuck on the sidelines, which makes them more passionate to help those who might be left behind.”

“I… see…” Upon thinking over his words once more, what Nekomata said did indeed make some sense, but it also gave way to another question Ichika was itching to have answered. Though Ichika didn’t know if it was particularly… appropriate to ask a successful volleyball coach.

Noticing his granddaughter’s large brown eyes flickering towards him on occasion, Nekomata shot her a look. “Is there something you wanna say?”

“Well…” Ichika pressed her lips together. “Were you also… a ‘bad’ player per se?”

It took Nekomata a moment to process her question, but he soon huffed out a laugh. “I’d say so,” he folded his arms over his chest. “Our team only made it to nationals once throughout my entire high school career. It was pretty awful.”

“But it’s thanks to those experiences, you were able to build-up wisdom as a coach… Right?”

“Exactly.”

Their little conversation was soon cut-short by another screech of Naoi’s whistle as he gestured for the rally to begin.

Kenma stood at the service area and drew his hand back, hitting the ball over the net and aiming for the corner of the court.

Number 3 on Karasuno’s team, a young man who appeared too old to be a high school student, adjusted himself under the flying ball with an ‘all right’ before bumping it into the air.

“Sorry, it’s a little short!”

“That’s what you get for ditching for a month, Asahi-san!” Their libero shouted from the sidelines.

“I’m sorry!”

“Kageyama, cover!” Their captain cried out, and soon Number 9 began to move.

“Yes!” The tall boy named Kageyama hurried under the ball and readied his hands. Ichika figured he must be the team setter. She watched as he reached up to support the incoming ball, only for the blue and yellow to suddenly vanish. Next thing she knew, Number 10 had already lept into the air with his eyes closed and the ball was already slammed down on Nekoma’s side of the court.

There was a moment of silence as everyone on Nekoma attempted to process what miracle had just taken place.

“What the heck was that?!” Coach Nekomata’s jaw practically hung open. “He wasn’t watching for the toss at all!”

“He had his eyes closed…” Ichika peered over at Karasuno’s side of the court, each of whom didn’t look surprised in the slightest. She then narrowed her attention to Number 10, the ginger who managed to pull off such a god-like attack.

If she remembered correctly, that was the same boy Kenma met on his little excursion away from the team that day they went to the morning market. This memory was further confirmed when Kenma called out to ‘Shoyo’ to tell him that what he did was amazing and how he was surprised.

She quickly wrote down the number 10 beside Karasuno’s first point.

The next rally began with Tanaka. After a spike from Fukunaga and a save from Karasuno’s libero, Inuoka and Yamamoto readied themselves to block another insane spike from the ginger boy, only for Kageyama to set the ball towards the adult-looking man named Asahi. He slammed the ball down and managed to score the point, but not before Yaku could contact the ball first.

Though surprised at first, Nekomata laughed. “That one was inevitable,” he said. “But that guy, is he really a high school student? He looks more like an adult if you ask me.”

“Perhaps,” Ichika chuckled. 

After another handful of rallies, Nekomata’s usual smiling expression grew serious. “How many points has number 10 scored so far?” He asked the blonde.

“So far, he’s scored four out of twelve points,” Ichika explained. “But because of the presence of that quick, he’s also been acting as a decoy. Our middle blockers are being drawn away, giving their hitters a higher success rate than they normally would.”

“Unbelievable.” Standing up, Coach Nekomata gestured to Naoi for a time-out.

As Ichika hurried to pass out the water bottles and towels to the boys, Nekomata began to speak.

“Their libero and spikers are good, but that one,” he glanced across the court at Karasuno’s cluster. “He’s a monster.”

“Do you mean Number 10?” Yaku asked between sips of his water.

“Number 10 flies around like a superhuman, yes. But it’s their setter I’m talking about,” his eyes swept across each of the boys. “Their freakish quicks require him to send his tosses with incredible speed to the highest point of the spiker’s palm. In other words, his control and precision are absolutely ridiculous. He’s a genius. We can’t help that. But, a genius in their midst doesn’t guarantee their victory.” His expression then returned to a tranquil smile, albeit with a hint of darkness hidden beneath as he shifted his attention to Kenma.

The boy averted his gaze to the side. “If Shoyo is the core of their offence, then all we need to do is stop him.”

“Shoyo?” Yamamoto raised an eyebrow.

“That speedy little Number 10,” Kuroo elaborated.

“Oh!”

“We can’t let Shoyo move around so much,” Kenma continued. “From what I can tell, Shoyo just dashes to where there are no blockers. We need to narrow down the area where he can move, so if we shift all the blockers to one side, he’ll move to the opposite. After that, it’s just a matter of chasing him down,” he turned towards Inuoka, who stood directly behind him. “Inuoka, you’re the quickest guy we have, right?”

“Y-Yessir!” The brown-haired boy straightened his posture. “Thank you very much!”

“I think anyone would be shocked the first time they see that attack,” Kenma peered over his shoulder at the ginger he called Shoyo. “I know I was. But even if we can’t clear the first round of the game, as long as they keep repeating the same moves, we’ll get used to it.”

“Uhh… What?” Inuoka looked a little confused by Kenma’s choice in terminology.

“In other words,” Nekomata cleared his throat. “That Number 9 and Number 10 are like a monster and his club. If you want to beat the monster, you first gotta take away his club.”

“I-I see…”

“Looks like you have a pretty big role this time, Inuoka,” Yamamoto patted the boy on the back with a cheeky grin. “Make sure you do it properly.”

“Wait, Yamamoto-” Kai moved in to interject, only to realize it was a little too late.

Yamamoto’s words, intentionally or not, made Inuoka’s body immediately tense up. “R-Right!” He stammered, his feet shuffling beneath him. “I’ll make sure I will, I mean- do!”

Sensing his stiff stature, Ichika huffed out a light breath. “Inuoka-kun,” she called, causing the brown-haired boy to suddenly spin around out of reflexes.

“Y-Yes?!”

Her eyes crinkled as she reached up, resting her hand on the boy's head with a gentle weight. “You can do it,” her tone was even, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. “We’re asking you because we  _ know _ you can.”

“Even if it’s just one touch, that’ll be more than enough,” Kuroo followed-up. “Any kind of contact with the ball will help us gather our bearings.”

“So just chase down Number 10, and jump,” Yaku then concluded with a reassuring smile.

Inuoka glanced around at his surrounding upperclassmen, meeting their confident gazes with a somewhat stupefied expression. He stared down at his feet as if contemplating something for a few moments before finally looking up. “Understood!” A determined smile surfaced. “I’ll do it!”

**_***_ **

“But that Number 9 really is something...” Ichika murmured as she jotted him down for another point on Karasuno’s side of the score. She had just watched Karasuno’s setter call for a bump from their libero before blowing right past both Kuroo and Fukunaga with a straight spike along the sideline. “He can set and spike with pinpoint accuracy, and his serves are really scary.”

“That’s a monster for you,” Nekomata shrugged. “He’s gonna be a force to be reckoned with in the future, that’s for sure. But Inuoka is slowly getting used to Number 10’s movements, so we’ll probably be able to corner their offence soon.”

“Nice one, Tsukishima!” Just as they were talking, Karasuno had managed to score another point. This time, by the tall blond wearing a set of dark-rimmed glasses. He had managed to pull off a feint against Fukunaga, allowing the ball to fall into Nekoma’s side of the court.

“The boy is really calm though,” Ichika pointed out. “That Number 11.”

“Why do you think so?”

“All his moves so far seem well-calculated and precise,” she explained. “He takes the time to slow down and observe the flow of the game. Then he makes a decision accordingly. Though something tells me he wouldn’t be too pleasant to hang around in day-to-day life,” she added that last part in an awkward laugh.

“Good insight,” Nekomata seemed impressed by her report, causing Ichika’s face to immediately brighten. Glancing back at the court, Nekomata’s smirk deepened. “But someone like him is probably the easiest to trick with fake-outs.”

Curious by what he meant, Ichika turned her attention back to the game only to notice Kenma sneaking a subtle glance to the right before tossing to Fukunaga on the left. Sure enough, the boy with glasses fell for his fake-out and attempted to move right.

“That was good!” She gasped in amazement.

“Kenma isn’t good with people,” Nekomata’s voice was almost wistful. “But because of that, he’s also concerned about what others think, which makes him extremely good at observing people. He comes up with good theories like, ‘I bet this guy will move like this.’ And that’s one of the many reasons why our team works.”

Ichika’s gaze flickered over for a moment. “Is one of the other reasons because we ‘connect?’” She asked, albeit a little quietly.

Nevertheless, Nekomata heard her and looked at her in surprise.

“It was in your section of the Nerima Community Centre Program book,” Ichika said, all the while avoiding his probing gaze. “It was lying on the coffee table, so I got curious.”

Nekomata’s eyes crinkled.

“Yes. That’s exactly why, Ichika,” his eyes swept across each of his players, watching as they persistently dove after each and every ball threatening to fall on their side of the court. “We don’t have any superhuman aces. But all we have to do is modestly, carefully, keep connecting and scoring one point at a time-” he smiled at her, “-we’ll win.”

And just like that, Yamamoto leapt into the air and scored another point for Nekoma.

With a piercing blow of Naoi’s whistle, what was hopefully the final rally of the set began. Fukunaga stood in the service area and gave an overhand serve in Karasuno’s direction, in which their libero easily picked up and bumped to their setter. Once again, the ginger-head, Number 10, dashed up to the net where there were no blockers and jumped. The setter tossed the ball to him with his usual, scarily pinpoint accuracy. But just as Number 10 swung his hand forward to spike, a large hand appeared in the ball’s path.

Inuoka lunged for where Number 10 was aiming, just like all the other times he did throughout the set. But unlike all those other times which blew past his fingers due to the split-second difference, this time, his palm was perfectly in-line with the ball. 

The sound of leather slamming against his palm resonated within the gymnasium like a hollow drum, and the Mikasa ball rebounded off Inuoka’s palm, dropping onto the ground of Karasuno’s side of the court.

Shibayama hurried to flip Nekoma’s side of the score-board.

_ 25-22 _

Nekoma takes the first set.

The entire gymnasium was silent for a moment, only to be shattered by the sharp echo of Naoi’s whistle. He gestured for the two teams to switch sides, and the boys wearing red jerseys immediately erupted into cheers.

“I got you, at last!” Standing over his opponent across the net, Inuoka declared loud and clear.

**On May 6th, 2012, Nekoma and Karasuno met for the first time.**


End file.
